


Mr. Sandman, full of dreams

by ChicagosLights



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy
Genre: Blood, Mentioned suicide, Pete is a patient who calls himself Sandman, also The Doctor is a dick, asylum AU, mentions of brutal death, patrick is a nurse, pete does some creepy shit to Patrick a lot, the non-con is making out and groping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:00:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 25,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25061998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChicagosLights/pseuds/ChicagosLights
Summary: For a year Patrick Stump had been working as a nurse at the strangely named "Ring Institution", it's depressing as one would expect but he needed a job.Inside the asylum though was a patient that was referred to as Sandman, he hated everyone but seemed to like Patrick, perhaps a little too much.Who is Donnie? Who is Horseshoe? Why does Sandman call himself Sandman?most of all, why does he keep referring to Patrick as if they're married?NOTE: this is and old halloween fic I wrote back in either 2019 or 2018 for a halloween challenge I never posted for. I tried positing it but then for some reason it never fully posted so now I have to post it in pieces
Relationships: Peterick - Relationship, Sandzedrine
Comments: 10
Kudos: 30





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> again before you start reading this is going to be a halloween fic and an asylum fic so there will be gore but mainly mentioned. if you're okay with that go right ahead

Every day. 

24 hours 

7 days a week

Maybe once a month he’d get a break 

Every day Patrick stared up at the large menacing building of faded white wood and concrete, every day he’d walk up the steps and sign his name in, every day he prayed and prayed and  _ prayed  _ that he wouldn’t be sent down to that hallway where the lights almost seemed to die completely and the one room at the end held the devil himself. It was always in vain though, he’d pass out the medicine, stand with the doctors as they assessed patients, and by the time it was sunset outside Patrick would tense as Dr. Weekes would give him a chilling smile and hand him a tray full of a buffet of pills. 

It was always the same too “watch your hands Nurse Stump”

And so Patrick would walk down the halls, several nurses either looking at him smugly or with sympathy, by the time he’d reached the door leading in to the hall- the fucking  _ devil’s den  _ if you will-he’d almost break down into tears. Today was no difference, only that Patrick was more silent and somber, hell he didn’t even snark back at Nurse Way which was pretty unusual to everyone. Per usual when the sun went down he made his way to Dr. Weekes’ office where the rainbow tray was waiting, before he left Dr. Weekes’ kicked a leg up in Patrick’s way. 

“Something the matter, Nurse Stump?” 

Patrick swallowed dryly “no Doctor” 

“Mm….if you say so. You know at any time you can tell us if you’d rather a different schedule, I know we can work something out” right, Patrick losing his fucking job

“It’s fine, thank you for your concern” with that Patrick hurried out of the office and towards the hallway leading to his patient, Sandman. 

The lights looked too bright almost, had someone changed the bulbs? Patrick pondered on who it would’ve been since everyone had no problem sending him down here, maybe Nurse Toro had done it after all he was a pretty nice guy. He stopped in front of the hallway door and opened it, locking it behind him and continuing down the windowless hallway to the only door ahead of him. He stopped outside and took a few seconds to breathe, Sandman had apparently had another meltdown this morning and...Patrick shook his head letting out shaky breath before knocking on the door. 

“Sandman? I’ve got your pills, I managed to get you some juice this time. Just….sit on the cot okay? Please?” he could hear Dr. Weekes’ voice yelling at him for how friendly he talked, Patrick shook his head with a sigh “I’m gonna come in now” 

He balanced the tray on his leg as he opened and shut the door, Sandman was sitting still on his makeshift cot in the corner of the room not acknowledging the nurse as he walked towards a little metal locked door where a tiny table would be pulled out from. Carefully he set the tray down and unlocked the door, he jumped back opening it expecting either human fluids or maybe a piece of the earlier morning guard to fall out; instead just the little table fell out and Patrick laughed nervously. The tray was carefully set down and Patrick pulled the juice bottle from his pocket to set down, as he turned towards the door he felt his body turn cold. 

“You’re heartbroken” 

Patrick’s brain promptly stopped working for a second because in all the 3 years that he had been working in this hell-hole not  _ once  _ had he ever heard that Sandman had a voice, except logically...he was the only one who could’ve talked right? The nurse looked over at him, head still down and hair in his face reminding Patrick of a horror movie, Christ if he just talked it sounded like his voice was gravelly and cracking from lack of use. 

“I’m….sorry?” 

Sandman’s head tilted a little and slowly he raised it to stare at Patrick through his bangs “you’re sad, you’re heartbroken. Who did it?” 

This….this was not what Patrick’s job really was, yes he treated Sandman like a person because  _ duh he was a person  _ but….but Patrick wasn’t supposed to stay longer than to leave him his pills and make sure there was no blood or anything nasty around the room. While he was taking a millenia to process everything Sandman had stood up and was slowly making his way over, reality only snapped back in when Patrick noticed the light was a little darker and realized Sandman was close enough that they were almost toe-to-toe. 

Sandman’s eyes were brown, there was nothing in them but completely emptiness

Sandman didn’t have his mask on, showing the glasgow smile with little scars going up and down as if making comical teeth. 

Patrick’s heart stopped and his breath caught in his throat, Sandman wasn’t wearing his mask.

“You should breathe, I like hearing you breathe” he said it so softly it felt like Patrick had just been slapped.

It was wrong of course, Patrick knew it was, but the fear of everything caused him to race to the door and out the room like the devil himself was chasing him; back in Sandman’s room though he could hear insane cackling, so maybe that wasn’t too far off.


	2. Chapter 2

_The carousel used to be beautiful, bright colors and dancing creatures with lights surrounding the top of it. Now though, now the green slime that Benzedrine had once thought nothing of had faded and dulled things, rusted the mechanisms so it screeched as it moved and the creatures were now frozen in twisted screams. The visitors from Otherland have long since stopped, the elevator supposedly broken and the inhabitants of Hollywoodland have all scattered to broken brick buildings and rundown bars leaving rusted destroyed cars in the city._

_His clothes are no longer sunshine yellow, hit hat is gone and his red lips are stained with blood instead of lipstick; he stood alone in the streets looking around confused and terrified, what was going on? Where was everyone, what had happened to their little world? When he sees glimpses of faces in the windows they're all sneers and acidic eyes, no bright smiles or happy twinkles upon seeing the Doctor like they used to. He finds himself walking towards the old ballpark, horrified he sees any and all green is now a murky brown or moldy black. The Doctor still walks in though and feels his stomach roll at the twisted smell of rotting grass, the gates are rusting and the sheep all lay around in skeletons with faded and broken gear still resting on them._

_“Donnie!” he doesn’t open his mouth yet that’s his voice calling out for his friend._

_He’s only met with an ominous breeze rattling the fence, something however comes with that breeze; a putrid sickly sweet odor, the Doctor swallows but slowly walks towards the dugout with cautious steps. His breath catches in his throat as the smell worsens, now becoming a nauseous rotting odor until he stands on the first step of the dugout to see what’s causing it. He can’t scream but he wants to, the railing of the stairway feels greasy as he grips it staring at the decomposing body of Donnie. This isn’t happening, it has to be a nightmare, why is his husband doing this to him?_

_“I don’t have a husband!” this time he does speak and no longer is he in tattered clothing, now he wears duck-patterned PJs and an over-sized Bowie shirt “what the hell is going on!”_

_The Doctor-no,_ Patrick _-steps away in horror as whoever the hell that person is suddenly jerks causing the baseball bat leaned against him to fall, behind broken glasses are yellow-milky eyes that now lock on to him. The hair is matted with dried blood but Patrick can clearly see a head wound killed this man, from peeling lips he says one word to the terrified man;_

_“Run”_

Patrick shoots up in bed screaming, falling and flailing to the ground wrapped in blankets.

When he collects himself he’s managed to wrap in a burrito on his carpet, Patrick wheezes a few more times before he can sit up and calm down; when he puts a hand over his chest though his stomach lurches as he can feel his lungs working. 

_I like hearing you breathe_

A shudder ran through him as he crawled back into bed, in a few hours he would have to go back to The Ring Institution, in a few hours he’d have to go back to dealing with the snide remarks and Dr. Weekes trying to get him killed or something else, in a few hours he’d have to go back to Sandman. Sleep thankfully had mercy on the nurse, allowing him to fall right back to sleep and gave him a much more peaceful dream this time with music and lights. While making himself cereal and reading the local news a thought occurred to Patrick, a horrible one connected back to that dream and whoever that man had been. 

Patrick hadn’t recognized him personally yet he felt like he’d known the red haired stranger for years, he’d apparently known his name but as far as Patrick knew he didn’t know any Donnies. He wasn’t married either, that was a bitter sting that Patrick recalled because like Sandman had somehow guessed his boyfriend had ripped his heart out by cheating. Patrick shook his head quickly to avoid tears, he wasn’t worth it anymore, he finished his cereal and changed into scrubs before heading to the other side of town. The nightmare still stuck with him though, he parked in the lot and for once jogged to the building as suddenly standing alone in the parking lot was a little too much for him; he clocked in as usual but the secretary stared at him this time as he headed in to the main building. 

Actually...as Patrick walked to Dr. Weekes’ office he noticed all around him several nurses were staring at him, fuck had he been fired without any knowledge? That stone stayed in his gut until he reached Dr. Weekes’ office and knocked, waiting for the usual “come in” but was met with silence. Oh, maybe he wasn’t there today? Maybe that was why they were all staring at him, because he was going to an empty office-the door was flung open and Patrick jumped back to stare at a rather crazed looking Dr. Weekes; the mans eyes were clearly bloodshot and his usually perfect gelled back hair was now all over the place, a dark look on his face made Patrick recoil and squeak when he was pulled in and the door slammed shut behind him. 

“I-Dr. Weekes what-”

Patrick’s heart stopped when he was slammed back against the door, Dr. Weekes’ had considerable height on him and if he wanted to cause harm to Patrick it would be easy. The man’s eyes were wild and the smile on his face made the stone in the nurse’s gut grow heavy, Patrick flinched when a hand came up to grip his cheek uncomfortably hard before he started petting along the side of Patrick’s face. 

“Nurse Stump, we have something _very_ important to discuss” Dr. Weekes’ hissed out his words, voice too soft and quiet for Patrick’s liking “you were with Sandman last night weren’t you? You gave him his pills and that’s all?” 

“I-yes, yes that’s all sir-please back away sir you’re too close” that wasn’t a wise thing to say because then Dr. Weekes’ was looming over Patrick like a shadow “Dr. Weekes please I have patients to attend to-”

“Do you _know_ why we hired someone like _you_ Nurse Stump? Because little nurses like you have that stupid little notion that we can help the insane, that we can help those dregs of society, the worthless and inept in some way when really there’s _no hope at all for them”_ what the fuck was the doctor possessed? 

Patrick was shaking like a scared guinea pig now, every part of him was telling him to knee Dr. Weekes in the gut, to kick his shin and run but he was frozen to the spot. It was a like a switch though, Dr. Weekes’ eyes seemed to clear up and he stepped away fast form Patrick, smoothing his hair back and trying to regain whatever composure he didn’t have. 

“You won’t be speaking of this to anyone Stump, not unless you want to lose your job. Go about tending to your patients” his voice was rough and scratchy, when Patrick didn’t move that manic look returned “ _NOW STUMP!”_

Patrick wasted no time running out of the office, he didn’t care if he was a spectacle to patients and nurses alike he just wanted to get to the bathroom and hide. He splashed his face with water for a few minutes before managing to compose himself and headed out to do his duties; per usual Nurse Way gave him shit, even more so today accusing Patrick of doing sexual favors for Dr. Weekes but this was ignored in favor of feeding the patients and talking with them. Around lunch time Nurse Toro hung out with Patrick out in the yard while patients walked around, he was really the only kind nurse there so Patrick brought up the nightmare he’d had last night and while Patrick laughed about it Nurse Toro had looked horrified. 

“I-sorry that clearly wasn't something to laugh about” Patrick started to walk away only for the other nurse to grab his arm.

“No no, Patrick that….do you know why Sandman's here? What he did?” when Patrick shook his head Toro looked even more scared “Oh my god, they really did just throw you to the wolves. I-look I’ll see if I can get them, but you should read his papers. That dream you had...it sounds crazy I’ll say that but that person you saw, that’s the same way they found one of Sandman’s friends” 

Patrick felt his body go cold “I….what?” 

Toro bit his lip and held his hand up in a _wait_ gesture, he went over to a security guard and said he’d been back in a moment, leaving Patrick alone. Those few minutes were nerve-wracking, you weren't supposed to leave a nurse alone with more than 2 patients so leaving him with 8 and a security guard who was yawning like he was bored? Not a good plan, Toro. Eventually though he returned with a folder marked with asylum jargon and shoved it into Patrick’s hands. 

“You’ve got time before you have to take care of him, right? Read what you can, don’t tell anyone I grabbed those Dr. Weekes would have a cow” 

God but this was starting to feel more and more like a horror movie, Patrick quietly thanked Toro and when they brought the patients back in he went to hide in a storage closet to read. It felt like state secrets as he opened the file, the first thing he noticed was a picture taped to a general file; it was Sandman looking as deflated and manic as he did now, in black penned letters he read : _Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz iii._ He was admitted to the hospital when he was 21, God he’d been here for 8 years? Patrick was only 17 when he’d been admitted, that thought made sent a shiver up his spine. The rest of the file explained the usual; mental and health issues, any physical things going on, his background and lineage, nothing really out of the ordinary. 

The second file though was a police file and Patrick threw it to the ground like a viper when his eyes landed on the photo; it was impossible, there was no way he’d seen what he thought he saw. He couldn’t have dreamed that, he didn’t even know about Sandman until he came to this place, how could his dreams...slowly he inched towards the files again and opened it back up to the second page once more. Staring up at him were a few taped photos of the murder scene, it was in a baseball dugout and the weapon had been a bat;

_Case: homicide at abandoned baseball field behind fair grounds._

_Victim: Andrew John Hurley_

_Age: 20_

_Height: 5’5”_

_Weight: [undetermined]_

_Cause of death: force blunt trauma to the back left side parental lobe_

_Weapon: steel baseball bat_

_Body was discovered by woman walking her dog, dog ran to the scene of the crime and the body was found. The victim appeared to have died instantly, a green coat and over-sized gag ribbon had been tied around his throat and a single baseball was jammed into the chain link fence. Written in faded marker was the name DONNIE THE CATCHER, authorities have no idea what this could be related to._

Patrick felt his throat close up, he closed the file and curled into a shivering ball in the corner of the closet. There was more in the file but it was already too much seeing those photos, Patrick had seen that man in his dream, there was no doubting that. He jumped and screamed at someone knocking on the closet door. 

“Patrick? It’s me, Ray, it’s almost time for you to take Sandman his pills” shit, already? 

He wobbled as he stood and winced when the door opened, Ray gave him an apologetic look but Patrick just handed him the file and began walking to Dr. Weekes’ office. The doctor now seemed to have gained full composure and he’d slicked his hair back looking pretentious, he didn't snark at Patrick this time but the look he gave the nurse was almost petrifying. The walk felt even slower now for Patrick, down the hall he went hesitating again at the door before unlocking it and heading in, when the door shut behind him this time though his heart leapt into his throat as he swore cold fingers were wrapped around his throat. 

He whirled around and almost tripped spilling the tray, no one was there, only flickering lights from the hall and a few nurses walking patients back to their rooms. Nervously Patrick laughed too loudly and flinched, that nightmare and file was really fucking with him. He did his best to shake it off though and stopped before Sandman’s door. 

“Sandman, I brought your pills-” his heart jumped to his throat as Sandman’s face was suddenly just...there, staring at him through the glass with a kind of crazed look “uh...step away from the door please” 

Sandman didn’t, instead Patrick shrieked jumping back as the man slammed his face _hard_ into the glass with a cackling scream, it was even more disturbing because they’d managed to get a mask back on his face. Sandman’s eyes were wild, the brown was now bright like amber and Patrick _swore_ he saw shadows or something moving inside like it was some kind of fucking comic book horror, he couldn't look away like he was in a trance. Then Sandman was gone from the window giggling manically running around the room and Patrick snapped out of it, awkwardly he scrambled around to pick up the pills and make sure there wasn’t dust on them before opening the slot in the door to put the tray in; no way was he going in there today, Sandman was-

Suddenly right by the door again, a serious and almost enraged look on his face, eyes stormy and back to the brown color Patrick had seen yesterday. 

“Why aren’t you coming in” 

His voice was less scratchy today, it sounded nice actually but Patrick shook his head and swallowed weakly. 

“You’re-you aren’t-you slammed your face into the door, Sandman. I won’t come in when you’re unstable” Patrick felt shitty saying that but honestly even if Sandman had his face covered and arms wrapped up that wouldn’t stop this man from killing Patrick. 

Sandman’s face softened impossibly then, the nurse felt his heart jump because how the hell did he do that? “No, please, please come in today” 

_No, you aren’t supposed to indulge the patience this way, especially someone like him_ Patrick’s conscious was stern with him, but against that he slowly started to reach for the handle. 

Sandman had moved to sit on his cot, visibly he was shaking and really that had Patrick feeling like he needed to run but the nurse just got the mini table out and set the tray down. He looked over at Sandman to see it was like yesterday, head down and hunched over like some kind of _Amnesia_ monster. 

He swallowed and looked down at the pills “Pete, you have to take your medicine” 

There was silence, an uncomfortable heavy silence, before shuffling footsteps brought Pete over to him; since his arms were tied today that meant Patrick was going to have to feed him the pills, at least today he managed to grab a pudding cup and some apple juice before he walked in. It was nerve-wracking as he reached up and undid the mask’s clips, that Glasgow smile didn’t match the dead eyes looking into Patrick’s own and really he expected his face to be bitten at that moment. He didn’t though and carefully began the process of feeding Pete his pills, it wasn’t until it was the last few that Patrick asked if he’d like to take them with the pudding he brought of wash it down with the apple juice. 

Pete fixed him with a new look now, a dopey smile and adoring eyes that were meant for someone….someone in love “you’re always so good at taking care of me, I wish I could take care of you. You had a nightmare, I’m sorry” 

Patrick tensed and felt a roll in his stomach, with shaking hands he opened the pudding cup and put the last two pills in it “cuh...c’mon, open up okay? We can...we can talk after if you want” 

Pete swallowed the spoonful of pudding and smiled again at Patrick, the nurse was surely going to have a heart attack with the way he kept getting shocked today; Pete suddenly lurched forward and Patrick froze with his arms open and the man leaning into him, nuzzling his face into Patrick’s neck and sighing. 

“I’m sorry, about the nightmare last night...you weren’t supposed to see that but I guess Donnie’s figuring things out a little too early” Pete giggled and Patrick was certain he died because he placed a soft kiss under the nurse’s ear 

“I...what?” 

Pete’s lips changed into a frown, lightly he bumped his head against Patrick’s “don’t play coy, I know you saw him. You weren’t supposed to see it though, Hollywoodland is...it’s not happy anymore, but it really never was to begin with” 

Patrick restrained every part of himself to not shove Pete away, instead he gently moved him back to at least see his face; the man was completely serious, it was clear in his eyes. The nurse swallowed and glanced at the pudding cup in his hand then back at Pete, he titled his head but smiled like he had some kind of idea of what Patrick meant (though honestly he completely doubted it). Pete headed back to the cot and sat down, scooting aside making room for Patrick. He shouldn’t have, he should’ve left the fucking room-he shouldn’t even had agreed to coming _in_ but now he had dug a grave and it seemed like he was still crawling down into it; Patrick went and sat beside Pete, he opened his mouth and made a small “ah” noise that melted Patrick’s anxiety a little.

* * *

It wasn’t until Patrick got back home that he realized something had been slipped into his backpack, upon checking it he almost crumpled it gripping the folder; how the hell had this ended up in his bag? There was no way this was legal! who- _ Ray  _ had obviously, Patrick wasn’t sure if he was angry at him or not; to be truthful his mind was reeling still because of how the rest of his time with Sand- _ Pete  _ had gone. He’d finished the pudding cup and asked Patrick to pour the juice in his mouth, of course the nurse had just thought about undoing his arms but remembered they were that way for a reason and as carefully as he could he’d done just that. 

Pete had gotten extremely cuddly then though, despite Patrick’s obvious tense body language he’d managed to get the nurse to allow him to lay in his lap despite Patrick's consciousness screaming. The thing was though and he couldn’t explain why but...it felt so natural and domestic, he hadn’t put Pete’s mask back on yet and looked down in his lap at someone smiling with pure love that Patrick didn't know where it came from or why it was directed at him. It wasn’t until Patrick saw outside that the sun had started to set, he had to go home; Pete hadn’t been too happy about that, baring his teeth and the nurse accidentally shoved him off in panic. He’d panicked then, apologizing and kneeling down to help Pete up but the man seemed quite able to by himself, he didn’t look too upset about being pushed off and had pouted instead. 

When Patrick had grabbed the tray and trash what Pete said made his skin crawl though “Do you remember me yet?” 

Now he sat at his kitchen table with a cup of tea and the light over him, reading through Andy’s case and feeling ill at the thought that Pete had murdered someone when Patrick was still in high school. Apparently several witnesses had accused Pete of being the one to do it but he’d had a pretty tight alibi, he’d been out of town visiting an aunt and when he’d learned about Andy’s death the kid had lost it; that doesn’t always mean innocence, Patrick knows that for a fact, but it was enough to convince authorities Pete had nothing to do with the case. It wasn’t until another murder occurred that Patrick felt worse seeing that Pete went into the police station and had admitted everything, the worse part though was his story on why;

_ Wentz claims that his reasons behind killing Trohman and Hurley are because they are supposedly “deities” of sorts; he maintained this statement throughout trial but was deemed insane and sent to Ring Institution. Doctors and nurses have claimed that he keeps saying there is one left, Wentz had begun referring to himself as Sandman and many patients at the institution have gone insane or committed suicide leaving behind letters or claiming that Wentz went into their dreams to punish them.  _

Cripes, so Pete was Freddy Krueger or some shit? Usually Patrick would laugh at that kind of an internal joke, but the fact he knew Patrick had a nightmare and even knew what it was about had a chill running through him; Nurse Way had tried scaring Patrick from giving Pete pills by bringing up the mysterious deaths but he’d always chalked it up to him trying to get Patrick to quit his job, guess he should’ve given it more thought in hindsight. He shook his head and decided it was best not to read anymore, it was already illegal that he had those papers out of the building, he didn’t need more nightmare fuel. 

As he got ready for bed though he swore something kept moving behind him, just faint movement that could've been mistaken for an eye twitch until he realized he was being followed to his room; just like before in the halls cold fingers wrapped around Patrick’s throat only this time he really did feel the skin being pressed down and the presence of  _ something  _ behind him. 

“ _ Found you”  _ came a voice mixed in a whisper and a buzz, to Patrick’s horror it felt like thick liquid was beginning to drip down his neck. 

He screamed and shot forward, stumbling down the hall and up the steps towards his bedroom while he swore behind he could hear thumping following him; the door to his room slammed shut and he practically flew under the blankets trying to flatten himself to the mattress. Silence followed, his heart was pounding wildly and he struggled to breathe, silently pleading that he wasn’t going to have an asthma attack while an intruder was trying to get in and kill him. Minutes passed, in his room silently he could hear the clock ticking, until finally he allowed himself to stretch out and hope that he hadn;’t just given his position away to whoever was in his house. After some time or maybe even a few seconds more Patrick finally peeked out from the blankets to just see the door shut and nothing else, he sighed in exhausted relief and chalked it up to exhaustion from dealing with Pete that day. 

Patrick switched the lights off and curled back up under the covers, maybe sleep would be kind again and come to him easy like last night. 


	3. Chapter 3

It seems the universe gives Patrick a break because the next morning when he wakes up he’s informed he doesn’t have to go to the institution, while he’d be happy about that when he finds out it’s because of a fire he’s slapped in the face immediately. The patients were all safe somehow which was a relief but were being transported to another facility which was less relief as he thought about Pete; repairs might take a while, it was the front half of the building that needed to be reconstructed so Patrick was now out of a job. He’d called Toro about the situation but was met with a voice mail, something about this felt wrong but he shook it off telling him to call him back so they could talk and see if they couldn’t help each other find a job. 

As a backup Patrick found work at the local library, it was enough to get by and afford a few groceries. The first week went by and everything seemed fine, since he was apart of The Ring Institution they were updated on their patients behavior by emails from Dr. Weekes, Patrick of course was disturbed when more…‘personal’ emails began to be sent to him but he brushed this off ignoring Dr. Weekes best he could; he was already having to deal with Brendon trying to force himself back into his life so having these disturbing emails sent to him just raised his stress. He found comfort in his new job though, it was quiet and comfy and the library most of the time was empty so Patrick was able to just read and enjoy himself. Nearby was a wide lake and park, when he wasn’t needed or allowed breaks Patrick would sit around the lake or explore the shore around. 

It was on one particular chilly thursday morning that Patrick was at the furthest part of the lake where he found an old campground; right, this place was the old Birch Lake grounds that had been abandoned since the early 1900s, a few times when he was younger friends would drag him out here to talk about old ghost stories. He smiled fondly at those stupid memories and walked over to the lake shore perfectly shaded by a large tree and thick bushes, everything stopped though as Patrick suddenly felt frigid and froze in place; something was by the lake shore, a bright red something that looked like a ripped up clothing item. Shit, had someone gotten stuck in the lake? He started to reach into his pocket for his phone only to watch in confused terror as the red thing slowly began to slip down into the water, if this was a horror movie there would be a waterphone going crazy. 

His legs moved of their own accord as he slowly neared the waters edge, the red thing was out of sight but there was something further out in the lake he saw moving, too big to be a fish but maybe...just big enough to be a body. Time slowed down as the shape slowly began to rise to the surface; even before it rose fully Patrick could see the bright bleeding red of the scarf, the face came up pale and veiny as most corpses were and to Patrick’s disgust bright ugly red horseshoe crabs were scuttling along the navy jacket into the corpse’s mouth or over sides into the water, the eyes were covered by somehow still fresh roses. It was a second later to Patrick’s horror he realized the roses were _inside_ the eye sockets, the hands came to float up along side and it reminded the terrified man of a macabre rendition of _Ophelia._

He had no way of expecting what came next. 

The water seemed to move now, pushing the corpse around and towards the lake shore until Patrick was now a few feet away, the terror rising as he realized he recognized the dead body only through news; when he had been in his Sophomore year of school he’d woken up to his mom staring gravely at the T.V. downstairs, a young man had been discovered drowned in the lake outside a Chicago suburb and for once his mom had been okay with letting him skip school that day (apparently a large portion of his school had missing students that day). The boy looked as young as he had that day, this lake wasn’t even cold enough to perfectly preserve a body like that but Patrick didn’t have long to dwell on that as this nightmare grew with the body suddenly twitching and coughing up horseshoe crabs and water. 

The flowers fell away, rotting as if the time frozen around them now started up again leaving empty sockets staring up at Patrick, it was endless blackness with stringy rotten flesh slicked along the sides of the boy’s face. 

A single word was spoken then, a young voice sounding almost like a ghouls “ _Run”_

Patrick did the opposite, his eyes instead rolled back and he collapsed to the muddy ground

*

When he woke up again it was because someone was performing CPR, he jerked and almost punched the young man, lucky for them both he backed away in time. A couple had been walking around this area and seen him passed out, the woman explained that he hadn't even been breathing and it looked as if he’d accidentally fallen in the lake (it was then Patrick realized he was soaked to the bone); the couple insisted on walking back with him to the library and when he reached his job again his co-worker insisted he go to an emergency care, Patrick managed to calm her down and just said he’d head back to his home to rest up. When he sat in his car he noticed his phone had several missed calls, all of them were from Ray and a few texts followed after but how manic they seemed reminded Patrick of the corpse of the boy. 

_Patrick? This sounds so fucking crazy but I thought I heard my dead boyfriend-_ Ray

_I haven’t been able to message or call back-_ Ray

_The night of the fire my boyfriend’s brother called me and said he_ \- Ray

_Well he killed himself, they don’t know why and neither does his brother-_ Ray

_His brother said that for a month he kept talking about this weird carnival place in his nightmares? He didn’t talk to me about it but he started to seem just really off-_ Ray

An hour passed 

_Patrick fuck please call or message me? I swear to god I just heard Mikey again, his voice was coming from my room but no one’s there-_ Ray

_I saw him I swear to god Patrick I just saw Mikey in the fucking hallway-_ Ray

Another hour passed, around the time Patrick had gone on his walk, it was mostly the same texts with panicked mentions of hearing or seeing Mikey around the apartments or hallways. It wasn’t until Patrick reached the last text that he felt like an icicle of fear drove into his spine;

_Benzedrine, why aren’t you running the carousel?-_ Ray

Patrick screamed as his phone suddenly rang, he dropped it like a snake and scrambled around to pick it up again on the floorboards. He cried out in pain smacking his head against the steering wheel but managed to scoop his phone back up to answer.

“Hello?” 

Nothing, there wasn’t any stereotypical creepy breathing or ominous static, just pure...silence. 

Patrick swallowed dryly and stared out at the trees in front of the parking lot “who is this? This isn’t funny, I just fainted earlier and I-”

From the other side slowly came music, his throat closed as it sounded like….carnival music…

“ _Dr. Benzedrine”_ a voice cooed from the speaker and Patrick threw his phone at the headboard but watched in confusion as it stopped mid air “ _Doctor Benzedrine is looking for you,_ Mister _Benzedrine, you have work to do”_

This wasn’t happening, that played over and over in his mind as something that looked like green smoke began to slowly trickle out of the speaker on his phone, this _wasn’t happening it wasn’t it wasn’t-_

Patrick stumbled out of his car and fell to his knees, however the ground beneath his hands wasn’t the gravelly parking lot but instead brick red asphalt with bits of dried grass peaking up; when he lifted his head he saw a long expanse of road stretching out into miles and along the road sat old rusting cars, like some kind of apocalypse just happened and Patrick had stumbled into the aftermath. He glanced over his shoulder to see his car was gone and not only that but his clothes had changed as well, in the distance he could see the blurry outline of cities but their appearance almost seemed..painted on the sky? Next though he saw brick buildings of a town, just as abandoned as the road and...wait, that was where Patrick’s previous nightmare had been, when he saw the corpse of Andy Hurley. Slowly he rose to his feet only to wobble as pain shot through his nose, instantly blood began to drip down his face and it felt as if his nose had been broken. On shaky feet Patrick began to walk towards the city, the prospect of going down that empty road put a fear in him he’d never felt before yet at the same time he wanted to run from the city as well. 

Around him the music from the phone surrounded the area, the music box driving its little notes into his ears as he neared the city; brick buildings were empty and covered in a strange stain looking like the slime from Ghostbusters almost but somehow...worse? A shudder went through Patrick’s body as he saw someone peek out from a curtain only to sneer at him with such hatred he wondered if he’d done something to anger these people, on closer expectation though when he managed to keep eye contact with more than a few seconds Patrick was horrified to see these people looked as if their skin was a greasy oil paint color, their eyes looked like fake glass filled to the brim with hatred and their teeth awkward with a green stain to them. 

A sick feeling began in his stomach, these were the people from his first nightmare and this was the same town yet now it felt even more real; it had to be a nightmare though, he was having one of those deep-sleep nightmares and any moment now he’d wake up, he _had_ to. As Patrick continued walking his nose bleed began to subside a little, occasional small drips made him flinch but what caught his attention next was to his left he saw what looked like fairgrounds. Something in his heart ached as he looked at the faded and ruined tents, at the broken down rides and stands that lay wasted covered in that disgusting green stain. As he made his way towards the area he saw what was causing it, an entire river of that disgusting sludge bubbled and burbbled along the area leading straight to a...carousel. 

He stopped in his tracks, _no_ he had to wake up _right the fuck now._ For a few embarrassing moments Patrick began to slap himself, pinch his face, bite his lip hard and cheek; no matter what he did though not only would he wake up but he wasn’t hurt at all. Numbing terror gripped him now, _where_ was he that he couldn’t...if this wasn’t a dream the…? There was a hand on his shoulder then, soaking wet and clammy fingers almost transparent with bones; slowly Patrick allowed himself to look over his shoulder, standing there was the corpse of a man in all red with a missing toothed grin and horseshoe crabs running out of his mouth.

“ _You’d better run, Benzie, he’s not gonna let you go when he gets’ya”_

* * *

The cold around him is what Patrick wakes up to, just as fast he thrashes around in terror to find he is beneath the water- _fuck_ he’s in the lake! As he continues flailing something grabs him and yanks him to the surface, he splutters and gulps in air as he’s hauled towards the shore. He almost has an asthma attack as he’s dropped on the shore line but quickly his savior moves him so he’s leaning back against them as his back is hit over and over; finally he spits up the last of the lake water and his lungs fill painfully with air. 

“ _Holy shit_ dude what were you doing in the lake?” Patrick blinks, somehow his glasses stayed on and now he sees the face of a panicked girl “are you okay? Did you hit your head or something?” 

Whoever Patrick was leaning against helped him sit up and he was shocked to recognize the couple from before-

_No, there was no before, you fell in the lake somehow and now you're awake_

Patrick let out a shaky breath and ran a hand over his face “I’m-thanks for saving me. I stepped out of the library on my break and I guess my asthma kicked my ass” 

The guy frowned and helped Patrick stand “shit dude, if it’s okay can we walk you back to your job? We were heading to the library parking lot anyway to head home” 

“Sure, more the merrier” Patrick croaked weakly, one last glance at the lake and the trio headed back towards the library. 

It was just the the drowning dream then, all the way up to Patrick now standing in front of the driver door staring in fear; what if Ray’s boyfriend was dead, what if that fucking nightmare sequence happened again and it turned out Patrick was trapped in a purgatory-esque day? 

“What the hell are you talking about, fucking get in the car” Patrick scowled at himself and got in.

  
He wouldn’t admit it aloud but he did sigh with relief to see that there were no missed calls and the only text he had was Ray apologizing for not talking to him sooner and that they should get together some time. Patrick let out a weak laugh and leaned back in the seat, _fuck_ what the hell just happened to him? He needed to get home, just get home and...and rest, get cleaned up and go actually sleep in a comfortable bed instead of the fucking lake.

*

_Case: found drowned at abandoned camping ground_

_Victim: Joseph Mark Trohman_

_Age: 18_

_Height: 5’6_

_Weight: [undeterminate]_

_Cause of death: drowning_

_Body was discovered when city officials visited the abandoned campsite in hopes or renewing it, the victim wore a navy jacket and ripped jeans along with a strange skull-patterend scarf that was placed on him at the time of his death or possible even the murder weapon. Written in the mud was HORSESHOE CRAB, THE LUCKIEST MAN ALIVE, authorities speculate whoever had killed Andrew Hurley last year might have returned._

Patrick stared at the file in his hands, stomach rolling as he read over and over again the letters beginning to blur on the page; he’d already glimpsed the photos of Joe’s corpse and it was as sickening as he’d felt seeing Andy’s as well. He’s had 2 nightmares now of 2 dead people he’s never met but still felt as if he’d known them forever, Patrick really was losing his mind wasn’t he? Maybe he belonged in The Ring Institution after all. Sighing Patrick shut the folder and rubbed at his face, he should burn this thing before anyone notices the file was gone, or maybe he’d gotten lucky and if it was found missing people would assume it went up in flames with the fire- 

There was a soft sound of movement and it froze Patrick to his core, he stood up quickly and stumbled back into the wall with fear gripping his heart tightly; Pete was standing there in his living room in clearly stolen baggy clothes, he looked like shit but was smiling the same creepy loving smile now that Patrick noticed him. 

“What-how’d you get here?” he didn’t appear to be armed, Patrick tensed worse when Pete began walking towards him “did you start the fire, Pete?” 

He stopped and gave Patrick an acidic look before it turned back to the creepy smile “what? No, I don’t know how that happened. Why would I do that, for all I’d known you might have been there and you could’ve gotten hurt...why are you shaking?” 

“Because you broke into my house” 

Pete frowned and stopped a few inches away from Patrick, the other man tried not wrinkling his nose because _god_ Pete reeked like mildew and a wet basement; his heart jumped when Pete was right in his personal bubble now, face pressed into the crook of Patrick’s neck nuzzling him and looping his arms around Patrick's waist. 

“I was waiting for you...they don’t even know m’gone, they won’t come looking for me. Don’t you know that? Dr. Weekes could care less about me...that’s why I give him nightmares” there’s dark pleasure in Pete’s tone, Patrick whimpered when the other man started pressing small kisses along his neck “I’m so sorry, about earlier today, reality is starting to get too out of my hands...you weren’t too scared were you? I’m so sorry, I don’t know why Donnie and Horseshoe are so against me bringing us together again”

Patrick was going to fucking die.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SIviyUXLOoI
> 
> This music plays during a scene where music is mentioned, if you want to listen to it go ahead, it plays for the whole written out scene until the scene is over, I specifically say when it's done so you won't have to listen to it forever.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so fun fact, this fic actually ends with chapter 3.  
> I looked it over though and thought "huh...that's kind of a shit way to end it all" so I'm going to re-write an ending I'm more satisfied with, thank you to everyone that likes the fic! I hope you all like the new path it takes

Something Patrick remembers the most was after the first month of working at the institution he had heard the tell-tale siren of an ambulance, when the paramedics rushed into the building that had been the first time Patrick realized when all the nurses told him he’d be “the devil’s next meal” that there really was a patient horror-movie level insane somewhere in the asylum as they wheeled a man through the halls; a man missing half his face, his throat torn out so you could see muscle moving as he struggled to breathe, his left arm shattered and right one twisted in a way that shouldn’t have been humanly possible. 

He hadn’t slept well that night, and the news the next morning at work didn’t help his already terrified state. 

Dr. Weekes seemed to keep Patrick around as his verbal punching bag, maybe it was because of how young Patrick was or maybe it was his timid shy nature, regardless when he’d been asked to come to the office he had expected another verbal lashing on why he should give up hope of ever helping the patients in The Ring Institution find a way to integrate back into society. Dr. Weekes had been lounging in his chair, feet up on the desk with his fingers pressed together in a diamond shape tapping them together; Patrick just stood by the door waiting to be addressed, if you spoke before Dr. Weekes did you’d regret it. Finally the doctor turned around in his seat and gestured to a small cart Patrick hadn’t noticed, it looked like a rainbow of candy lay in a corner and immediately the nurse knew where he was being sent

“Watch your hands, nurse Stump” Dr. Weekes had smiled at him sickly, Patrick swallowed dryly and mumbled a thanks before heading out of the office _._

The thing was though that when Patrick had finally reached Sandman’s room it had already been bleached clean and the patient himself was tethered to a hook on the wall, it made the nurse’s stomach twist seeing them treat him like an animal. He’d killed someone though, Patrick’s mind kept reminding him of it as he wheeled the cart in, but any and all signs of mania seemed to disappear from the man when his attention was now on Patrick. 

The fact that Patrick had come out of the room alive had now gained him a new reputation; the devil’s whore a few nurses began calling him. 

Now, with the only patient Patrick had ever heard of or seen the aftermath of his murderers snuggling into Patrick as if he were an attention starved puppy, Patrick was thinking back to when they’d heckled him and said he was the next snack to die; after Pete said his weird speech he’d kept Patrick back against the wall cuddling into him, the smell was starting to get to Patrick though and without meaning to he blurted “you need a shower”. Slowly Pete lifted his head and titled it, a skin-crawling smile on his face and the half-lidded look he gave Patrick clearly showing just what he was thinking. 

“That sounds nice...I miss seeing you naked” 

What. 

The.

_Fuck._

Patrick swallowed weakly and gently pushed Pete away “uh-um, it’s...it’s down the hall” 

Pete frowned, tugging Patrick away from the wall and close to him again “you’re not showing me?” 

“I have to make sure the door is locked” it was such a bullshit excuse but Pete just shrugged and wandered down the hall. 

_Fuck,_ he could call the cops but that gave a time slot for Pete to murder him or kidnap him, when he looked around there was nothing broken though so how did he get in? His name was called from the bathroom sending a shiver down his back, “coming!” he called before hesitantly walking to the bathroom. Pete hadn’t undressed, instead he was holding a picture frame and looking at it like it had offended him, immediately Patrick recognized it as the stupid photograph Brendon had insisted on keeping (a photo of him and Patrick where it was obvious Patrick was having a shitty vacation in L.A.). 

“Um, Pete?” 

The man slowly looked up at him, face blank and terrifying “who’s this” 

Patrick gulped and inched closer, taking the photo surprisingly easy from Pete’s hands and set it face-down back on the towel shelf “no one important, I haven’t had time to get rid of some stuff” 

It didn’t really click in Patrick's head what he’d said until Pete had thrown off his shirt and let the sweatpants drop, it took a lot of Patrick’s will not to recoil because _fuck_ Pete was practically bone more or less, how the hell was he that strong? Patrick didn’t have long to think on that, Pete had grabbed the hem of Patrick’s shirt and tugged it up; he wanted to panic, he wanted to knock Pete out and then call someone because _no way_ was he getting naked with a murderer but he’d dug this grave and now he had to lay in it. If Pete was handsy before now it seemed worse; he crowded Patrick back up against the wall once they were in the shower, hands going from his shoulders to sides, squeezing his hips, doing the same to Patrick’s thighs making the smaller man jump and try to melt into the shower wall. 

With the way Pete was blocking the shower spray from Patrick it really did feel like he was some kind of prey, thankfully Pete had stopped groping him but instead switched to mouthing along his throat leaving hickeys and flushed skin. Funnily in a fucked up way, what Patrick considered worse than being groped and having his neck more or less molested was that this felt natural; it felt like Pete had had him in this way before, like they’d done this so many times before and that Patrick was _meant_ to be under Pete this way small and pliant under his hands. 

That absolutely terrified him. 

Pete finally moved away smiling at him softly before starting to actually wash himself, he didn’t force Patrick to touch him which he was grateful for and within a few minutes the two were stepping out and wrapping towels around themselves. In Patrick's room there were a few photos of him and Brendon still on the shelves, Pete audibly growled sounding like a wolverine mixed with some kind of movie-monster and Patrick wondered if he’d smash all the photos in the house. Patrick grabbed a pair of sweats and a t-shirt he didn’t really care about and offered them to Pete, another small soft smile with his hand lingering on Patrick's wrist before he put the PJs on and crawled onto the bed. This was too domestic feeling, Patrick was crawling into bed with _a murderer_ convinced that he was...was what, Patrick’s boyfriend? Husband? Convinced that he had some kind of world-altering powers and that he was hurting Patrick? 

His phone was still in the living room, it was stupid but maybe he could make a run for it or go to a neighbors and hide until the authorities could show up and find Pete; he had to be wrong, Dr. Weekes was obsessed with a perfect reputation, there was no way he’d let a highly insane patient out on the loose and risk his crystal clean reputation being stained by it. So deep in thought and paranoia Patrick didn’t notice Pete staring at him until he was pulled and pushed down flat on his back, the other man moved and now loomed over Patrick with a blank expression. A shiver crept up Patrick’s spine, those Glasgow smile scars...they’d tickled and dragged along his neck and throat, unfortunately for him staring at the scars gave Pete the wrong message. 

Time stood still for a few seconds; he didn’t think of Pete other than someone that he wanted to help, otherwise outside of work Patrick didn’t give the institution a second though, content to pretend for a while that his boss wasn’t more or less using him as eventual bait to prove a point about Pete. Patrick though was surprised to find that Pete’s lips were...extremely soft, a little chapped but they were very soft for someone that looked like he was mostly starved (he was though, Patrick hated that they weren’t allowed to give the patients more food). The scars felt strange against his lips, they scraped along his own in contrast with the softness beginning to drown out Patrick’s fear; when Pete broke the kiss Patrick whimpered in confusion, above him the man smiled with a fondness that ached Patrick’s heart. 

“I’ve missed you so much, kissing you, holding you, just being with you, you don’t understand how insane it’s made me” at the end of the sentence Pete’s smile turns dark and sickly sweet, Patrick's heart begins to beat frantically again “the puppeteer broke your heart, I know he did. You won’t tell me, don’t have to, I’ll take care of it Benzie, I’ll erase all those memories of you from that bastard’s fucking head” 

Patrick swallowed feeling sick, what was he talking about-

_Benzie_

Joe Trohman’s corpse in that nightmare had called him Benzie. 

The voice on the phone sounding like a twisted version of Ray called him Mister Benzedrine, had talked about some kind of other, a Doctor Benzedrine. 

Patrick’s throat felt like it was closing and Pete noticed. 

“Why are you looking at me like that” his tone was calm but there was an edge to it. 

_Play along, Stump, you have to play along or you’re dead meat_ “I just-I don’t want to remember Brendon right now, Pete. Please? I’m in bed with you not him right now” shakily he reached up to loop his arms around Pete’s neck “can you please kiss me again?” 

God but it felt wrong, it felt like he was taking advantage of Pete yet the smile he received felt familiar all over again as he pressed his lips to Patrick’s. The kiss was slow, like Pete was taking his time familiarizing himself or remembering Patrick’s mouth-what a weird thought, Patrick frowned but stopped quickly to keep Pete convinced, why would he think about remembering? He’d never met Pete, _ever,_ not until his job-

Again Pete broke the kiss and nuzzled into his neck “I missed you so much, my Benzedrine, my love” 

Patrick’s mouth tasted bitter as he whispered back “I lo-love you too…” 

Pete didn’t kiss him again, instead he rolled to his side and pulled Patrick into his chest to snuggle; the two lay there in their own minds then, Patrick terrified and thinking of ways to get away and Pete? Well, Patrick had no clue _what_ Pete was thinking but he hoped it was good based on the calf-eyes he kept giving Patrick and the way he nuzzled Patrick’s hair every few seconds.

Then they both heard knocking. 

Pete sat up frowning, looking at the wall to the living room “expecting someone?” 

“Yes! I mean yea, it’s just my neighbor, she’s been checking on me since the fire happened” Patrick tried to keep his movements calm and less jerky in his rush to get to the door “I’ll be right back, okay? I love you” 

The suspicion on Pete’s face left at that, a quick smile and he laid back down. 

When he gets to his front door he doesn’t really know what to expect, maybe it really was his neighbor, maybe it was someone from the institute, maybe it was another fucking corpse. The only way Patrick would know of course was if he opened the door, throwing all to the wind he did so and almost broke down in tears seeing the face of Ray Toro. 

“Patrick hi, I brought over dinner like you asked” what? Ray’s face had such an obviously fake smile and it didn’t click until he saw Ray’s eyes glance behind him “is it alright if you help grab it?” 

“Ye-of course, yeah” glancing over his shoulder Pete was nowhere to be seen and quiet as a ghost Patrick shut the door, immediately throwing his arms around Ray’s shoulders and trying to bite back sobs. 

“Hey, hey, we can’t break just yet, there’s people here to come get him” Ray led Patrick down the hall quietly and by a small group of hiding officers that moved by the two. 

Once outside Patrick finally began to cry, loud aching sobs as he was led to a car that was probably Ray’s; a guy stepped out of the passenger seat and awkwardly asked if Patrick had been hurt or if anything happened, Ray just said they’d talk back at home and Patrick was gently led into the back of the car. Before he could sit down though there was loud shouts and animalistic screaming, Patrick froze midway into getting in and watched as Pete was dragged out with a mask over his face thrashing around and sounded like a wounded animal. Neighbors were coming outside and people opened their windows to look out, as Pete was dragged towards the squad car his eyes fell on Patrick and what he saw was all the hatred of hell and the pits below directed right at him. 

Or so he thought. 

*

“You’re sure we don’t need to go to a hospital?” Ray asked for the millionth time as he set a cup of tea in front of Patrick.

“No, He-nothing like that happened. I’ve got a few hickeys but that’s it” Patrick sniffed and awkwardly picked up the cup to take a sip “I’m sorry, for making you put up with me” 

“No way, we wouldn’t want you to be hurt” Mikey called from the couch where he’d made Patrick a bed “we don’t really know each other but I wouldn’t want my boyfriend’s friend to go back to a place where a murderer might go back to” 

“Mikey” Ray warned “it’s no problem at all Patrick. The bathrooms the second door down the hall, Mikey and me will be upstairs and literally if anything happens wake us up or use the phone” 

“Thank you, both of you really, you don’t know how much I appreciate it” Patrick smiled at the two weakly. 

“Just don’t go missing in the night okay?” that got a laugh out of all of them but Ray’s smile faded a little “hey um...could I ask you something Patrick?” 

That didn’t sound good “sure” 

“So Dr. Weekes is obligated to send us all emails about our pay and the current state of the institution and all that...but he’s always...seemed to have a weird interest in you” Ray cringed at his own words and sighed “I mean-do you know what I mean?”

“You mean like how I’m his verbal punching bag? Yeah, I think he gets a kick out of scaring me. If you’re wondering yes even through the emails he’s been harassing me again. I didn't tell you but the day you gave me those files he had this weird episode going on, it was like something possessed him almost” Patrick laughed weakly but both Ray and Mikey looked a little grave “work abuse isn’t funny I know but-”

“No no, it’s just…” Ray looked over at Mikey as if asking permission for something, his boyfriend didn’t look at him though “I hate sounding like some superstitious guy but...after I started working at the institution I’ve been having these crazy nightmares. I think my stress has been affecting Mikey too, to be truthful Patrick? I almost hope they don't rebuild it. I’ve heard from other institutions that our patients are doing so much better at these new places-”

“Wentz put a curse or something on that building” MIkey interrupted, hatred dripping in his tone “Ray comes home exhausted and he has fucked up nightmares, he’s told me I’ve committed suicide in some or been murdered, he’s said that my brother is dead and it’s all because of Wentz” 

“Michael Way!” 

Patrick’s face was pale, he needed to reel this situation back fast or he was about to run out of the house. 

“I don’t think he’s wrong” Ray looked at him shocked “what-I _mean_ Pete is such a legend that I think it’s scared people to the point of having nightmares, you being stressed stresses Mikey out and you two are having nightmares because of it” 

The couple either agreed with this or decided not to fight in front of Patrick over it, they all said their good-nights and Patrick snuggled up under the comforter left for him. It was some time later that Patrick opened his eyes, a digital clock next to the T.V. read 2:45 AM in blocky green numbers; did he have to go to the bathroom? Probably, groggily he rolled off the couch and pulled himself up using the arm heading down the hall like Ray said. Thanks to the windows in the living room there was some blue light coming in from outside, helping the sleep-drunk Patrick find his way to the bathroom. After a quick leak he started heading down the hall but froze seeing that someone was sitting on the couch, how the _fuck_ did Pete get out of the city jail that fast? 

Shit, he couldn’t get to the stairs without Pete seeing him, Patrick bit his lip and thought about trying to find a window to jump out of but what if Pete ended up killing Mikey and Ray before he could get help? It was then the person stood up, Patrick’s whole body was stiff as the blue light revealed that in fact that was _not_ Pete at all. 

It was Brendon. 


	5. Chapter 5

No, no more of this, Patrick had to be dreaming again. He was not drowning in a lake, Pete had not suffocated him in the bedroom and he hadn’t somehow fainted while on his trip the bathroom. Except he realized as Brendon started to walk towards the hall that this was not a dream, it was stupid but Patrick ran back to the bathroom and quietly shut the door; Brendon somehow found where he was, Patrick already knew that he was not dreaming this time and the matter was made worse at the soft knocking. 

“Baby, we can make this really easy or I can go upstairs and kill your friends. Take your pick” 

Patrick wanted to throw up, Brendon clearly found this funny with his playful tone; the bastard even started to hum while Patrick debated on screaming and hoping the two upstairs would hear or just going with his ex. The choice was made when Brendon’s humming started to fade, quickly he opened the door and stepped out to glare at him. Brendon smirked smugly, walking back over and roughly grabbing Patrick’s arm forcing him to follow to the door; he looked miserably at the couch where his phone was laying, there was no way Patrick would be able to get it and no way Brendon would even allow him to take it wherever they were going...where _were_ they going? 

“Where are you taking me” Patrick demanded but it failed to sound intimidating as it cracked “Brendon where the hell are we going” 

“Shut up and get in the car, Patrick” Brendon shoved him at the backseat door, when Patrick only glared at him Brendon gave him a cruel smile “I can knock you out and force you in the car or we can go peacefully” 

Peaceful was the option Patrick chose though he spit on Brendon before getting in the backseat, it was ignored and Brendon started up his car pulling out of the driveway and heading down the road. In the backseat Patrick shrank and huddled in on himself, something felt wrong about this whole situation-well _besides_ the kidnapping, Brendon wasn’t a nice guy per say considering why he and Patrick broke up but….

“You didn't get any of that help you were given did you” Patrick gave him a steely glare in the rear-view mirror “that doesn’t surprise me, you’ve always refused good advice” 

Brendon’s grin was terrifying, almost comically wide like a cartoon villain “I _did_ actually get help, he’s a very prestigious doctor. We got to talking, he helped me realize that I _really_ fucked up with our break-up-”

“You fucking tried to kill me by dissolving copious amounts of medication in a drink and tried _poisoning_ me with it, no shit you fucked up” 

“ _Details,_ details Patty. Look I’m trying to apologize okay! I’m sorry, I should’ve gotten help you’re right but this doctor really helped me realize that it’s fine-”

“ _What?_ There is nothing okay with attempted murder on your boyfriend!” who the fuck did Brendon talk to, Hannibal Lector? 

“It _is_ okay! You didn’t die, we broke up, I talked to someone just like the court wanted me too! Patrick you’re being stupid, we can get back together. I got this little apartment of my own, it’s perfect for the both of us right now. I even got a job! I can provide for us both, don’t you want to be happy again?” 

Happy? _Happy?_ “My whole life has been turned upside down ever since I started working at the institution, you tried to _fucking_ kill me and now I’m apparently some kind of doctor married to the Sandman in an alternate reality with carnivals” Patrick’s voice was eerily calm as he watched the streetlights pass them by. 

In the mirror Patrick saw Brendon frowning “what? I think _you’re_ the one who needs help now, and quitting your job is going to be the big help. That place makes everyone who works there crazy, plus all your boss’ abuse is stressing you out. God making you have to take care of that fucking monster, you poor thing, but don’t worry baby you’ll be safe now-”

“How the fuck do you know that?” Patrick had never talked about how Dr. Weekes treated him, hell Brendon didn’t even care about that while they dated all he ever cared about was...wait-

Brendon seemed to realize Patrick had put two and two together, he reacted about as well as you’d expect “that place is killing you! C’mon all you ever do is get verbally abused, you get attacked by patients and everyone insults you, Dr. Weekes suggested that I come and get you and have you quite your job. He’s got your best interest at heart-”

“The first fucking month of my first fucking year the bastard made sexual passes at me and when I kept ignoring them he finally just started verbally berating me! Best interest at heart, he’d rather rip it out and eat it!” 

The breaks were slammed and Patrick flew face first into the back of the car seat, pain exploded in his face and his nose had to have been broken; Brendon cursed and left Patrick weeping and moaning in pain in the backseat, when Patrick managed to sit up he saw car lights and Brendon’s hands were up as he approached someone getting out of it. Shit was Brendon about to kill someone? Yeah right, getting help from someone like Dr. Weekes? Patrick was about to be an unfortunate Will Graham about to watch Hannibal Lector kill someone. What he didn’t expect though was to see the person who got out take a swing at Brendon, shit maybe _both_ of them were about to get killed. 

While Brendon was now in a fist-fight a second figure got out of the car and ran towards the one Patrick was in, he tried to shrink down in the backseat but the door was opened and he was roughly pulled out. 

“What did he do to your face!” it was Ray, some kind of God had to be watching over Patrick because how the hell did they find him? 

He was helped into the back of the car while Ray went to go check on Mikey, apparently he’d knocked Brendon out and Patrick wasn’t sure if he was happy about that or not; it’d be easier for him to know for sure if his fucking head wasn’t spinning so much and above the sky was now darker with flashes in the distance. Patrick wasn’t sure if he blacked out or not, he must have since he was woken up by Mikey shaking his shoulder and saying they were at the emergency care; his nose wasn’t broken thankfully but it would hurt for a bit, apparently officers were called at the scene and they needed a statement from Patrick but Mikey had convinced them Patrick would be able to tomorrow night. 

“I’m so sorry” he said again once they were back at the house. 

Ray would want nothing to do with him now after this he was sure, if not Ray then Mikey probably (not that Patrick blamed him, maybe he himself was the one cursed and not Pete). 

“ _No,_ no more apologies Patrick. I’m just relieved Mikey heard a car driving away, he’s the reason we found you” Ray patted his shoulder “look it’s really late, we should try and sleep. I’ll drive you back to your house tomorrow, my job starts at six” 

Ray went to get Patrick another ice pack leaving him awkwardly with Mikey, he was about to give him an apology too but he was cut off. 

“You can’t tell Ray this okay but I didn't hear a car” Mikey’s face was solemn “I’m sorry to say this Patrick but after tonight, I don’t...please don’t talk to my boyfriend anymore. You know how I knew where you guys were going to be? I had a dream, just before Ray came upstairs to tell me you were gone I had a dream that you’d been kidnapped by some guy I’d never seen and the one who told me you were going to be there was this weird gold and black costumed looking guy” 

Patrick’s mouth was dry now, Mikey had saved him because of a dream? “I...no, no it’s okay. That would scare anyone, I don’t know what’s going on with me or what’s been happening but if you want me to leave so Ray’s safe that’s okay” 

Mikey nodded with a quiet “I’m sorry” as Ray came back, he made sure the ice pack was comfortably laid against Patrick’s face and bid him goodnight again. 

*

_The Doctor’s fingers danced carefully along Benzedrine’s ribs, he slapped at the shadow’s hand earning a cackle before being shoved forward further down the carnival dirt path. What on Earth could the puppeteer have wanted? And so late, Sandman would notice that his husband wasn’t in bed and his shadows would certainly report back to him. The Doctor picked at his shoulder and hair again, more swatting and to Benzedrine’s annoyance his hat was swept up by the wind suddenly and the Doctor didn’t even bother to try and catch it._

_“Fishy, fishy, fishy, Benzedrine you foolish marlot” the Doctor sneered baring his jagged mouth before laughing again_

_“Truly you are abysmal, if I could cast you away I would” Benzedrine huffed but paused outside the large gold and red tent “ah…..perhaps though this was not a wise choice…”_

_“You dug your grave, best go in before the parade swallows you up” the Doctor cackled again before disappearing completely._

_Frowning he parted the curtains and stood inside the empty big top, the normally bright and colorful stage with several costumed harlequins with crystal lights glowing around them was now bland and empty. Benzedrine felt his skin crawl a little as he walked down towards the main circle looking around at the empty seats wondering if the puppeteer was playing a cruel joke._

_“Puppet? This isn’t funny, you know how Sandman feels about me being out so late, if there is something you need or there is something important to discuss you need to tell me” Benzedrine crossed his arms in a huff and looked about him once again “I will leave this instant-”_

_There was rustling and he jumped to see curtains moving aside to show a tunnel glowing with amber light “Benzedrine my love! Come this way, I’m back here”_

_“Puppeteer! This is not a funny game” regardless he stomped towards the tunnel to just get this over with._

_The amber glow began to fade as he moved further down, around him the colors began to change from gold and red to a sickly green and black until suddenly he was stumbling in complete darkness; looking behind him though he saw the lights were still there so there was nothing to be scared of. However as he continued in the darkness there was a sudden jolt of fear and when he opened his eyes again-_

_“What?” Patrick feels sick and trembles at the cold air around him, he whirls around to see he’s in some kind of dark forest in a cemetery “wh-hello!”_

_There's no response but his own echo, he wrapped his arms around himself whimpering as another chilly wind sweeps through the area rustling leaves and making the trees groan. Another nightmare, as if tonight hadn’t already been awful, he shut his eyes tightly willing himself to not cry and wake up but of course it’s useless; stupidly Patrick began to walk because really what else was he going to do? The cemetery seemed to stretch on forever and ever, the tombstones never once changed and seemed to just repeat each other though a few Patrick swore on his life moved but it had to have just been a trick of the shadows._

_The shadows that were following him as he neared a mausoleum, per expected fashion the door slowly opened and he sighed figuring fuck it, if he were going to die in a dream might as well make it a cemetery. Once inside the door slammed shut on Patrick knocking him forward and right into someone’s arms, he thought about screaming but those arms felt like cold iron as they wrapped around him and held him flushed against someone’s chest. For a moment outside Patrick heard the crackle of thunder and sparks danced around his and the other person’s feet showing black and gold boots before returning to darkness._

_There was freezing breath against his ear before lips pressed against it making Patrick squirm and try to hit the person’s chest only to find their hands seemed glued in place._

_There was an inhuman growl sounding like many voices before the person spoke “you lied to me”_

_It was like a bolt of lightning went through Patrick, that was Pete-or maybe that wasn’t right, in this nightmare he wasn’t Pete was he? No…_

_He was Sandman in this nightmare._

_“I-no I didn’t” Patrick croaked, unsure of what he’d lied about apparently._

_His skull rang in pain as he was slammed back against the stone door, what felt like clawed gloves dug into his wrists and through the brimming tears he could see millions of white eyes and a pair of yellow lightning eyes looking at him with hatred._

_“DON’T YOU FUCKING LIE TO ME!” the words echoed like a gunshot around the room, Patrick cried out at the pain his head rang with “I’VE DONE EVERYTHING TO BRING YOU BACK BUT YOU DENY ME EACH AND EVERY TIME!”_

_Patrick could only whimper and let the tears flow, Sandman snarled and roughly grabbed Patrick's face squishing it causing the clawed tips of the gloves to cut into his face; blood and tears, all Patrick needed to now was break out into a sweat and honestly with how terrified he was that wouldn't be too hard. He started to sob as the claws dug deeper until he was released and collapsed into a ball on the stone floor, curling tightly into himself and wishing desperately to wake up. Above him Sandman was panting, sharp and quick as if the mausoleum no longer had air, before dropping to his knees and gathering Patrick into his arms._

_Apologies poured from his lips, kisses being pressed over each cut his claws had caused and down to Patrick’s throat all the while holding the crying man close to him; he was so cold though, very opposite to the waking Pete, he was cold but Patrick was in a hysterical state and just wanted comfort. Soon enough his sobs petered out and he just lay in Sandman’s arms, sniffling occasionally and whimpering when a cold kiss was pressed to his face._

_Finally Sandman spoke again “why won’t you come back to me, Benzie? I love you, I love you, you’re my husband. I only want you back with me, please Benzedrine I can’t-Hollywoodland isn’t worth being in without you”_

_It occurred to Patrick the other man was crying when he felt tears drip down onto his shoulders, reflexively he reached up to cradle the man’s face and found something instead of tears staining his hands; Sandman’s tears were green, the same green sludge as around the carousel and river...the same green that had ruined everything. Slowly he locked eyes with Sandman to see the yellow was gone now in favor of heartbroken soft brown, it stung something inside Patrick and without thinking he leaned in to kiss him. It was a quick one, barely noticeable to either party, but they still knew Patrick had done it and for some reason this made Sandman cry harder._

_“Why did you do it, Benzie, I thought we were happy. I thought you were happy in our marriage, I thought I was a good husband to you. Why did you change? Why did you run away, Benzie come back to me” his words were almost unrecognizable as he began to sob in Patrick’s chest._

_Patrick opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out, instead a heavy feeling came over his eyes and they began to flutter closed. Sandman let out a panicked shriek and began babbling as he gripped Patrick’s shoulders, about not leaving him again, about staying so they could talk, about forgetting whoever the puppeteer was. No matter what though the pleading man couldn’t keep whatever kind of sleep was trying to take Patrick away from stopping, the last thing Patrick fully saw was Sandman’s face warp into one of hatred and faintly heard a name being whispered._

*

Patrick knew he was a lonely person, but after giving his statement and having Ray drop him off at his house, he didn’t realize he truly had no one until Ray was already a small dot down the road. He hadn’t woken up very well, falling off the couch in a panic but thankfully Ray and Mikey were still asleep; he declined breakfast because the whole time Mikey was giving Patrick a new look, one that pretty much screamed murder. The whole drive Patrick had wanted to talk to Ray about it, ask him if Mikey was always like that or if he should listen, instead though now Patrick stood on his apartment doorstep realizing that he had no friends besides Ray. 

It is a relief though to be back in his house, he’s surprised to see several gift baskets and wrapped things left in front of his door along with a note explaining the neighbors had left him things; apparently they were under the impression he’d been sent to the hospital. His kitchen table was now covered in several different muffin baskets and a few casseroles, at least he wouldn’t starve, right? He checked the missed calls, answered of few that he figured were immediately important, and promptly melted into the couch; a nap, just a few more hours of sleep and he’d be definitely fine, after all the library had told him they’d give him some time off on account of what happened making local news. 

His dream was forcing itself to stay front and center in his mind though, what the hell had any of that been? Pete kept calling him Benzie, he said they were husbands-he was supposedly _married_ to a murderer-yet Pete’s eyes had been so heartbroken as if everything Patrick's subconscious had created was true. _No,_ it was all a result of him working at such a stressful job and having a harassing boss, there was no such thing as some kind of demon carnival land! He sat up from the couch scowling; Pete was just a disturbed individual who had latched onto Patrick for some reason and pulled him into whatever fantasy he lived in, plan and fucking simple. 

The rest of the day was Patrick getting rid of everything and anything that was Brendon related somehow in the apartment, with a sizable garbage bag Patrick headed to the bathroom to find the clothes Pete had left behind. As he picked them up though something scuttled from the shirt sleeves causing him to scream, he dropped the clothes and stumbled out of the bathroom almost falling on his bum; it was several small horseshoe crabs, Patrick didn’t have time to feel sick as he quickly scooped them up and set them on one side of the tub filling it up; great, so not only had Pete stolen some clothes but he’d allowed a few lake dwellers to hitch a ride to Patrick’s house, he’d have to take them to lake by the library-

Horseshoe crabs don’t live in cold water. 

Patrick felt uneasy now as he stared at the little creatures bumbling around in the tank, horseshoe crabs weren’t that bright ruby red either. Taking a deep breath Patrick picked up the clothes and shook them over the tub, something little fell out and he snatched it before it could touch the tub; opening his hand Patrick saw it was the tag of the shirt and though it was faded horribly and the name scribbled on it was hard to make out he could at least see the first 3 letters; _JOE._ Numbness was something Patrick had been getting used to now, slowly he put the clothes in the garbage bag and headed outside to toss it in the dumpster, once back inside he opened his laptop and shakily searched up JOE TROHMAN. A few results came up worldwide but when Patrick narrowed it down to his town specifically all of them were about the murder or memorial pages, looking at all the different page names Patrick felt a pang of sadness; this kid was so young and Pete had just... _drowned_ him, what did he even play in this crazy fantasy Pete had created? 

_“I don’t know why Donnie and Horseshoe are so against me bringing us together again”_

Joe had been Horseshoe and Andy had been Donnie but what did that even mean? If Patrick remembered correctly Andy had been killed a year prior to Joe, so the kid wouldn’t have even known him right? Well actually...Patrick frowned in thought, Andy was 20 at his time of death and Joe would’ve been 17; Pete himself if Patrick did the math right would’ve been 21 and really the age difference wouldn’t have made much of a difference in friendship. Maybe Joe did know Pete and Andy, maybe Pete had collected the both of them and killed them at separate times- _whoa_ there Stump, what the hell are you thinking? Patrick shook his head feeling his face heat up from guilt, for fuck’s sake this was a murder case and he was thinking about conspiracy theories-

As he refreshed the page again though 2 things popped up as the new first results that made his body cold. 

The first new result was an LJ that Joe had apparently kept and right underneath was something that had just been posted a few days ago, he opened two separate tabs and went to the brand new article feeling cold as he read it; 

_BODY EXHUMED FROM MAUSOLEUM: MISSING CORPSE OF YOUNG TEENAGER IS NOW REPORTED AS MISSING_

_On the morning of Thursday the caretaker of Hillcrest Burial Cemetery discovered one of the mausoleums had been broken in to, the body was missing from the casket and upon looking up the name of the body it was discovered to have been Joseph Trohman the young boy who had tragically been murdered in the strange “carnival” cases (_ Patrick audibly choked at that, _carnival_ cases? There was a fucking name to what Pete had done?). _The caretaker, Mr. Whittamaker, checked security cameras to see a figure breaking into the mausoleum but he was unable to identify them; coincidentally or perhaps not Pete Wetntz, the killer, had been found inside the apartment of one of the nurses from The Ring Institution._

_Authorities speculate the nurse might have been another target as when Wentz was first brought forward to confess it was discovered he had a list of victims that all went by nicknames he had given them: “Cemetery Eyes” Frank Iero (19), “The Harlequin” Ryan Ross (17), “The Mime” Spencer Smith (16) “Oxenfree” Ryan Seaman (17), and others who were not given names since thankfully Wentz’s murders were put to a stop before he could continue. Repeatedly Wentz has been interrogated as to the whereabouts of the body but he continues to claim he went straight to the nurse’s home and never went near the cemetery. The search for Joe Trohman’s body has been discontinued by family saying that if Wentz was the one who stole it then he most likely put it back in the lake._

“What the fuck are you doing, Pete” Patrick let out a shaky sigh and covered his face with his hands. 

The LJ was a final entry that made Patrick sick as he read it: 

_My new therapist is nice, I feel less shitty crying in front of him now then I did when we first started. Pete and me haven’t really been talking lately, I don’t really blame him though since he’s the one police are accusing of killing Andy. It sucks though cause I’m alone again, I mean sure there’s some kids I share my weed with but it’s not really friends its just them wanting to get high. My mom doesn’t want me to hang out with Pete anymore but she doesn’t have to worry about that, he won’t even answer my calls anymore._

_Something that’s creeping me out though is the day they thought Andy died Pete was acting pretty weird, I’m used to him being a freak kinda but...I don’t know, he was talking to himself when I came over to his place and he said something about Benzedrine. I’m scared he’s coping with drugs to deal with Andy’s death and being accused of murder. I know it was only last year but losing a close friend can fuck anyone up_

_UPDATE: Pete finally came over yesterday, he asked me if I wanted to hang out by the old campgrounds near the library, sounds like a great place to get murdered but honestly I’ve missed him enough that I don’t care if we hang out in a dumpster._

  
  


That was it then, the last time Joe was alive and he’d told people where he was going to be discovered; there it was again though, fucking _Benzedrine,_ Pete had been talking about Patrick since 2000 apparently and that had his stomach rolling. He should stop looking at this stuff, just go back to sleeping and enjoying the day off before heading back to the library until the institution was fixed. 

Ever heard of the train-wreck example? 

Frank Iero was found dead in the cemetery, it had been a clean kill apparently with a gunshot but his eyes were missing. 

Ryan Ross was found in a city garden in a rose bush, several of the flowers had been wrapped around his arms and neck. 

Spencer Smith had been found near an old theater, sitting in a chair with a clean knife wound through the heart. 

Ryan Seaman however was an interesting case altogether. 

Ryan Seaman had no relations whatsoever to Pete, the other 3 victims had at least known Pete for a week before they turned up dead but Ryan was the only person who had not only never known Pete but was the first victim that had managed to tell someone that he was going to be killed.

_MURDER VICTIM HAD WARNED PEOPLE AROUND HIM BEFORE THAT HE WAS GOING TO DIE_

_Ryan Seaman, age 17, was found dead in a nearby empty manor near the outer limits of the city; Absinthe Manor had once belonged to Oscar Absinthe, a peculiar man that later would be discovered to have created a cult within his home. The manor itself began to gain a reputation for “ghosts” and would often be subjected to trespassers for the scare factor, this such occasion is how the body of the young high schooler was discovered in the main room where Mr. Absinthe supposedly conducted his “summoning”._

_Seaman was found inside a large dumbwaiter inside the wall where Absinthe would send his followers underground into now closed off tunnels. The trespassers, a group of high schoolers from the Seaman’s school, called authorities and the body was quickly moved out; while trying to get to the bottom of everything authorities were informed by guilt-ridden friends and even parents that Seaman had been convinced he was being targeted by someone prior to his death._

_Seaman had first talked about seeing someone follow him around and out of school months prior to being killed, the school was already on edge due to the mysterious death of two other students beforehand but many had concluded that Seaman was simply dealing with paranoia and all would be well soon._

_Seaman’s parents have decided to live in private now and have moved, the location of where their son is to be buried is only kept within family._

_We can only hope that Ryan did not suffer and is at peace._

Patrick felt his throat go dry as he began searching for more about how Ryan died, it seemed not only did the parents go private but any information on how he had died or what state he’d been discovered in was completely gone or maybe they'd never existed. Frustrated suddenly Patrick huffed and shoved at his computer before deciding he should make lunch, as he headed to the kitchen though he paused in thought. Ray had given him a police file, it had talked about Andy and Joe...there had been more pages in it-scrambling around Patrick practically tore his house apart trying to see if he could find those files again. Of course they were under the table, the one spot that he somehow missed, and quickly flipping through them he ended up at the end of the file to see-

Nothing. 

Ryan’s file was gone. 

Admittedly maybe it was disturbing that Patrick cried out in anger and threw the file at the wall, he felt guilty and picked up the file making sure none of the pages were damaged before setting it on the small table and heading to make lunch again. The day passed again and it was while he was making dinner a surprise call from Ray interrupted him. 

“Hey is everything-”

“ _Did he tell you to stay away from me?”_

Patrick gulped and looked at the pasta in the pan “I….look Ray he’s worried-”

“ _Mikey doesn’t get to choose who I can’t be friends with”_ had he been crying? It sounded like he’d been crying “ _fuck just-I’m sorry Patrick. I don’t-I want to stay friends I just don’t think I can go back to the institution when its rebuilt”_

“No, no, don’t go back there. If you’re having insane nightmares you need to get a new job, and with a boss like Weekes? Forget that, I’d run too if I could” 

Ray laughed weakly and sniffled “ _I just-this morning during work he texted me and confessed that he’d told you off. I was so pissed, just because someone that-”_ he cut off, the silence on the other end gave Patrick the creeps. 

“Ray?” 

“ _I think my stress has made him go a little crazy too...he told me in that text that someone that looks like you but….crazy? All in yellow like some kind of weird T.V. star with a shadow following him has been showing up in his nightmares. Mikey said he looked like you”_ Ray was almost whispering now “ _I think knowing about what Pete did has really affected us”_

_What Pete did_ “Ray….what happened to Ryan Seaman? Why isn’t his file in the folder you gave me” 

Again the silence was unnerving, Patrick expected that fucking music box to start up again when Ray finally cleared his throat “ _I don’t...I’m not sure what you found online but you can’t find how he died because that was only in police reports like the ones I gave you. I’ll be honest Patrick, that file folder...I got it from Dr. Weekes’ room”_

_“_ You _stole_ from our boss?” Patrick’s stomach rolled and suddenly pasta wasn’t good anymore “Ray-you could’ve been fired!” 

A dry laugh was his answer “ _so what? If you can’t find Ryan’s file I bet you it’s in that office”_

“Why would Dr. Weekes care? Is he obsessed with the case or something?” 

“ _I thought you knew. You um, you remember that one guy that Pete almost killed before you started going in? The reason Dr. Weekes decided to send you in was because...well the murder cases Pete did are called the carnival cases and you fit the perfect description for someone named Mister Benzedrine”_

The phone fell from his hand and it was a miracle it didn't break the screen somehow, from the speaker he could hear Ray frantically calling his name; was it a coincidence then that he had been hired so fast without even a look at his background and that Dr. Weekes was obsessed with a murder case where Patrick was one of the soon-to-be’s on the murderer’s list? Was it complete luck then that Dr. Weekes would find an opportunity to put the person that supposedly fit the bill of this “Mister Benzedrine” in the same room as the murderer? 

But that hadn’t happened, Patrick had been alive and perfectly well, not a single scratch or wound on him. Now that he tried remembering, Dr. Weekes had not only looked shocked that Patrick had walked out of Pete’s room but downright hateful; _fuck_ the plan really had been to kill Patrick wasn’t it, Dr. Weekes knew something that no one else did and his plan was to kill Patrick...to what end? To get rid of Pete? Some kind of revenge-

He snatched the phone back from the floor “Ray what are the chances that Dr. Weekes knew Ryan Seaman?” 

“That’s _what you’ve been doing? I thought Brendon broke out of jail or something or-or something else! God Patrick you scared me...uh, what was your question-oh, now that you mention it probably very likely? I mean he’s not super young, in his late thirties, but there’s a chance he might’ve been around when Pete started murdering”_

“I-okay this is starting to be way too much. I think I’m dizzy, can I call you tomorrow?” 

_“I can come over, it’s Saturday after all. Get some dinner and rest, Patrick, I’ll be honest it sounds like you’ve stumbled on a conspiracy theory or something but I’m willing to hear you out”_

With his pasta and veggies done Patrick sat at the couch and flipped the T.V. on, it was on the news to his annoyance but before he could switch channels a breaking news broke across the screen; as he read the headline Patrick’s mind promptly shut down. 

Brendon had been found hung in his hospital room.


	6. Chapter 6

“I can’t believe you-I agreed to come over and listen to your crazy idea not ride with you to our most insane patient’s new location” Ray parked in the drive way and looked up at the brick building “Christ this place looks like Baltimore hospital” 

“You don’t have to come in with me. I just...I need to figure things out, I know he’s going to only tell me insane things but maybe I can get some kind of...I don’t know, actual sense out of what he’s doing”

  
“Patrick you think he killed Brendon?” Ray looked at him in disbelief, Patrick sighed weakly and shrugged “your ex-boyfriend is insane, you even told me yourself he tried to poison you. Pete didn’t do anything, he didn't influence him or convince him or anything, he killed himself on his own accord Patrick” 

“I know just-look if you want I’ll bus myself back. I’m gonna head in now” 

Patrick exited the car before Ray could say anything else, he flashed his nurse ID to the secretary as he headed in and was met by a security guard to escort him to Pete. 

“You used to work at that place right?” the guard was giving Patrick a side look that was unreadable “they’re gonna take him back when it’s rebuilt?” 

“That’s the plan yes” Patrick responded stiffly, when the guard didn’t stop looking at him he cleared his throat “is something the matter?” 

“Are you that guy that he broke out to see?” 

“I wasn’t aware he broke out” it was a blatant lie but the guard seemed to believe him

Down the hall Patrick felt his skin crawl seeing Pete’s cell, Ray wasn’t too far off about the Baltimore hospital comment; the guard said he’d be at the end of the hall and waited until Patrick heard the door shut, taking a deep breath he walked down to Pete’s cell. His back was to the cell, arms too casually behind his head resting and he was even humming like this was just a little hotel room. Patrick stopped before the cell and cleared his throat, for only a second Pete’s humming stopped before it began again only slowly, sounding discordant almost. 

“You killed Brendon” 

Silence, the humming had stopped again. 

Patrick swallowed dryly “Nurse Toro gave me a file the day before the fire...it was about the people you killed. It was...a lot of people, I did some research and found your confession to the police. There were people you still hadn’t killed...so that’s what you were going to do to me in my house?” 

He could see how tense Pete was now, would he say anything to Patrick? Probably not, that glare had been meant for him, Patrick knew that much. Pete said nothing still for the next few seconds and Patrick debated on going back to Ray because honestly what _was_ he doing? Hoping for Pete to talk about...the murders? Confirm that Dr. Weekes had some kind of connection with Ryan Seaman, talk about this nightmare world he supposedly lived in? He was wasting his time. 

“You can say something to me or I’m leaving-”

“I love you” 

Well….uh….he didn’t know what to say. 

Pete continued, “the little puppeteer lost all control, became the puppet with a rope around his neck grounding him in this reality. That’s what he gets, he took you away from me and that’s what he gets” 

“What the _fuck_ are you talking about you fucking psycho!” Patrick felt his stomach twist as he screamed that but he was so tired of these mind games Pete kept playing “I have never met you until this job! I never knew you, I’ve never met you, I’m not your fucking husband!” 

Silence followed until Pete finally turned around “is that why you wanted to run away so badly?” 

Patrick swears his brain-cells die at that, it’s all fucking riddles to Pete and- “you realize you’re crazy right Pete? You murdered people, you murdered fucking teenagers, Pete. I don’t-what place do I have in this insane fantasy of yours? Do you realize that’s why Dr. Weekes only let me be your nurse because you’re planning on killing me-”

_“I am not trying to kill you!”_ Patrick screamed and almost fell back as Pete slammed his arms into the glass “that bastard ruined everything! He took you away from me, he kept feeding you lies and you left me!” 

He was crying now and despite the security telling him to stay away from the glass Patrick stepped closer and placed a hand on it, Pete pressed his face against the spot as if he could feel Patrick’s hand making the most pitiful face.

“You keep saying things that just sound like riddles to me, what world do you live in where I can’t see it or understand?” 

Pete hiccuped and looked at Patrick with kicked-puppy eyes “you lived there too, why do you keep denying it? I’m not talking in riddles, you just aren’t listening to me” 

“ _What_ am I supposed to listen to Pete?” Patrick shook his head, it felt like he was going to start crying too “all of this is fucking insane, you’re scaring me to the point I have nightmares about you”

Pete’s puppy face switched immediately to a blank look, it was definitely because Patrick was tired but for a second Pete’s eyes had a yellow tinge to them.

“You think...you’re just dreaming?” 

“Of course I am” Patrick backed away from the glass earning a panicked whine from Pete, his face immediately changing back to the wounded puppy “You’re not the mythical Sandman, Pete, that’s just a myth- a fairy tale. It’s stress making me think about you” 

Pete’s face changed to a borderline murderous look “I _am_ real and you _are_ my husband, _you’re_ the one living in a fairy tale. I had to put everyone to sleep so they’d wake up but you’re in hiding behind a dream I can’t get to” 

Patrick started to open his mouth but closed it as something disturbing clicked in his mind; the Sandman in myth was sometimes benevolent...but what was the brother of sleep? 

Death. 

An endless sleep where you felt nothing, where nothing happened anything because you were in such a deep sleep it might as well have been a dreamless sleep. Patrick came closer to the glass again and looked into Pete’s eyes, there was a tiny Patrick looking back at him in a whiskey swirl; at first he thought it was Pete’s pupil that he was seeing moving but the more he stared the more he realized the black shape he was seeing was something reaching to grab his throat. Patrick screamed and whirled around, stumbling and falling back against the glass, it was just an empty hall behind him but he had seen-it was _so solid_ looking-had seen someone reaching for his neck. 

“The Doctor’s trying to keep you in this dream” Patrick jumped again and turned around, Pete had his head tilted and the dreamy look Patrick was used to seeing on his face “him and that bastard both lied to you, you believed them though even though. Wasn’t I a good husband Benzie? I thought I was, I thought I was good to you, but I guess I wasn’t…” 

His throat felt dry when he swallowed, again Patrick looked Pete in the eyes and tried to keep his voice steady “Pete... _what_ did I do. How did I leave you?” 

Pete’s face caved a little, starting to cry again with small hiccups “Y-you said you were tired of-of it all...the river was making you...you said it was changing us all, you said it was...changing me. You talked without me, you went to...to other people who weren’t me...I wasn’t _sick_ Benzie, the river got on all of us. The Doctor kept _lying_ and he said I was going crazy, I was _not_ going crazy just because all of Hollywoodland was getting nightmares wasn’t my fault” 

Right, Okay, what was Patrick supposed to glean from that? In this fantasy they were together and apparently toxic water had made Pete go insane and he started hurting people because of it? Then what, then...then Patrick apparently talked to people or neglected their marriage, or maybe he talked to other people because Pete was starting to concern him. He sighed weakly and pressed his hand to the glass again, Pete whimpered and again pressed his face to the glass; he really was crazy wasn’t he? Patrick shook his head and moved away from the glass, Pete’s eyes were wide and vulnerable, just like they had been at Patrick’s apartment. 

“You’re...you’re insane, Pete...you’re a serial killer...but you know something?” _don’t say it, Stump, don’t say something that can come back to bite you in the ass_ Patrick closed his eyes for a second before looking at Pete’s miserable face “there is something _so_ familiar about you and in my apartment it almost felt like you were supposed to be there” 

Pete’s voice followed him as he hurried down the hall, screaming at him to come back and not leave him, begging him to stay and go back to him, when he reached the door to leave Pete’s screams had become incoherent. The security guard opened the door and Patrick shoved past him, the guy didn’t bother stopping him but the secretary did. 

“Sir!” she grabbed his arm and jerked him back, Patrick resisted the urge to shove her away “excuse me but are you Patrick Stump?” 

“You saw my ID” oh joy he was crying 

The woman frowned and let go of his arm “well a gentleman came in and said that he received an email and that you should have a well, apparently it’s important” 

That made his gut drop, with a quiet thanks he walked out expecting Ray to have left, instead he was surprised to see the car was still there. When he got closer though he could see the other man’s face was grim. 

“Ray?” Patrick asked when he got in, his friend stared intensely at the steering wheel “what’s going on?” 

Ray chewed on his lip before sighing “Dr. Weekes emailed me personally and asked if I’d been in contact with you. Brendon’s suicide, it’s being considered a case...they went to his apartment to look around and um. It’s pretty creepy Patrick, the authorities want to talk to you about it-you’re not a suspect, the camera footage shows it was a suicide but the stuff they found at Brendon’s house is serious” 

“Fuck, great” Patrick pressed his hands to his face and choked on a sob “okay, okay, let’s-you can drop me off at home I’ll drive myself” 

“No, I’m gonna spend the day with you, you definitely need it..also Dr. Weekes is being investigated too” 

Patrick’s head snapped up “yeah well Brendon admitted that Dr. Weekes was his therapist or something-”

“You were right about Ryan Seaman” Ray interrupted, he was shaking a little Patrick noticed “Dr. Weekes-yeah he apparently had been a sort of therapist for Brendon but you were right about him being connected to Ryan Seaman. A secretary called me right after Dr. Weekes emailed me, she told me authorities were going to different nurses at the institution asking if any of us had dealt with Dr. Weekes’...strange behaviors. I mentioned you and she didn’t take much convincing but she told me that Dr. Weekes had been a counselor of sorts to a lot of the kids that were in high school during Pete’s murder spree” 

Patrick swallowed at that and nodded weakly, Ray pulled out of the parking lot and headed to the police station.

* * *

It was a small room with a table and an uncomfortable chair for Patrick to sit in, the officer that was supposed to speak with him was still at the hospital apparently talking with people over what happened. The lady at the front desk kept coming in to tell him what was going on so at least he wasn’t totally in the dark, Ray was still in the parking lot despite Patrick telling him to go out somewhere to eat since he had no idea when Patrick would be able to leave. Finally after an hour the door opened and an officer walked in, she looked tired and even grave when she looked at Patrick. 

“Mr. Stump, I’m officer Coles. I want to be upfront and tell you you’re not a suspect in Urie’s death, you were brought in for a different reason” 

Patrick nodded slowly “o...okay” 

“Alright. I am going to have to ask you some things about Brendon though, is that alright?” Patrick nodded again “alright. When did you and Brendon get together?”

“Uh, my junior year. He was-he never did any of the stuff he did in later years, he was a really sweet guy. It wasn’t until last year he started acting weird” Patrick winced remembering how Brendon had seemed to rapidly decline in sanity “the abuse started last year too…” 

Officer Coles nodded, the look of sympathy stung more than helped “he attempted to poison you, correct? Had he ever seemed to want severe harm towards you?” 

“N-no...the abuse was mainly verbal, sometimes he’d hit or shove me but I never thought he’d try to kill me” 

Again she nodded “alright, we’re going to go away from him for now. How long have you been a nurse at The Ring Institution?” 

“Three years” 

“And Dr. Weekes has been working there for six years. Did he ever speak to any of the patients?” 

Patrick took a second to think, there was occasional screening that patients had to do to see if they were mentally stable enough to head out into society again (or at least go to another institution better fitted to allow that eventually). 

“Not as far as I know ma’am. Dr. Weekes um...he was very private about his business” 

Officer Coles nodded but her face showed that she knew what Patrick meant “we spoke to other nurses...many of them admitted that they have ill feeling towards you because they consider you Dr. Weekes’ favorite. Has he ever made sexual advances towards you?” 

“No!” Patrick felt his face heat up and he cleared his throat “I mean-no, he never did. I was hired because there was a lack of nurses and from day one Dr. Weekes barely acknowledged me” 

“Until?” Officer Coles asked because even she could hear the unspoken ‘until’ 

“until….I became Pete’s nurse-I mean the nurse to deliver his pills. The first month I worked there Dr. Weekes didn’t really acknowledge me until he assigned me to be Pete’s...somewhat personal caretaker” 

“And after that the abuse Mr. Toro mentioned started” 

Patrick swallowed and nodded “y-yes...it was never physical really but sometimes he’d grab my wrist or corner me and he’d insult me over my hope of the patients being able to be allowed back into society” 

“You don’t need me to tell you that he shouldn’t be touching his staff at all Mr. Stump. So he verbally berates your morals then, anything else at all?” 

Patrick stared at the table remembering the outburst Dr. Weekes had a few weeks ago “he um….the day before the fire he had a strange outburst. He pinned me to the door in his office and started petting my face, he did his usual spiel about me being stupid for wanting to help the patients and then it was like a switch was flipped and he sat down. He told me if I told anyone about it he’d fire me from my job” 

Officer Coles frowned “Dr. Weekes has been accused of abuse of power and encouraging a man to kill his ex, this is very important news Mr. Stump. I know you’re afraid that you might lose your job but abuse of power is serious, Dr. Weekes is in hot water already and it will take a miracle to get the charges pressed against him dropped for Brendon’s death” 

Patrick nodded feeling ill, Dr. Weekes had asked about Pete he remembered and now he realized he’d never wondered _why_ he had brought it up. 

“Officer Coles? I know it’s probably confidential but um...what exactly does Ryan Seaman have to do with this case?” 

The wheels and cogs were clearly turning in her head as she considered this, finally she nodded with a sigh “I shouldn’t really tell you this, don’t let it slip out I told you please? Dr. Weekes was a therapist or counselor, one of the two for the high schoolers affected by the murders Pete Wentz did back in the early two-thousands. Ryan Seaman was one of the victims, however he was the only one reported to know or have a feeling he was going to die. He told friends and family that a weird kid at the college near his school kept following him around or staring at him, Ryan was reported on our record as saying that the boy said he was going to ‘help Ryan go to sleep’”

Patrick’s throat closed up at that “and no one fucking believed him?” 

“I wasn’t an officer yet but when I asked around his parents were the ones who denied any police escorts or watch” Officer Coles looked pissed “their son was terrified and all they did was tell him it was because of the murders. Anyway Dr. Weekes apparently was someone the students were sent to because of the mass paranoia around the school. Hold on a moment” 

Patrick watched the officer leave the office and return a few minutes later with a file in her hands. 

“This is very confidential Patrick but from how Weekes acted this morning when we interviewed him you might be in danger yourself” she opened the file and leafed through a few pages before pulling one out and clearing her throat “Dr. Weekes said that he found Ryan ‘a very bright and unfortunately traumatized young man’, he even went as far as to say he was attached to Ryan and that the young man considered him a friend. Not just his words but Ryan’s parents had requested that their sessions stop because they were disturbed by their son considering his counselor a friend” 

A lightbulb went off in the row of glass bulbs in Patrick brain “I-I see...Officer Coles did um, did you get the camera footage from Brendon’s room?” 

Her face paled a little “yes...I’m no doctor but I don’t think it’d be good for you to see it, we’re having an issue due to...well I’ve already told you enough stuff, what’s one more secret. There’s a gap in the video, if you’re sure you want to see if Patrick...I can show you a little of it, I won’t show you the end because I don’t think a hanging body would be good on your mental state” 

He wasn’t sure how she was able to bring the laptop in but maybe no one cared, she opened it in front of him and opened a few files before the video player opened;

_The screen showed Brendon laying in his hospital bed, he seemed asleep but sat up quickly. He looked around his surroundings before staring in front of him. His face changed to that of anger and he was up and out of the bed fast, he stood at the foot of it and point at empty air. Brendon began gesturing widely, his mouth was twisted in an angry snarl but just as quickly it looked like he was laughing, he smacked his chest with a smugful grin and seemed to be laughing again._

_His face turned to confusion before he jerked back violently, hitting his bed and grabbing on to it with one with and with the other he was rubbing furiously at his face as if something had been thrown at him. It wasn’t just his face though, he let go of the bed to pull and rub at his upper body shaking his head wildly as if whatever invisible something had been thrown wasn’t just on his face. The footage began to glitch here and there, a few pixels missing while the footage would stall; when it caught back up again it looked as if Brendon was in a screaming match now before his face twisted into an insane grin. The footage went black-_

And quickly Officer Coles slammed the laptop shut causing Patrick to jump, right, that probably was when Brendon had hung himself. 

“As you can see it’s very disturbing. All we can make out from it is that he’s going crazy, whether a reaction from the drugs or just his own insanity we’re not sure yet but we’re grilling Weekes on the matter” 

Patrick was allowed to leave then, he wasn’t sure how he looked but when he reached the car Ray announced they were going out to eat whether Patrick was hungry or not.

*

“What do you do at the library anyway?” Ray asked as he took a bite from his sandwich 

Patrick smiled weakly at the attempt to get his mind off everything “well I sit at the front desk, make sure books are checked in and out, take care of checkouts if our self-service ones are busy, answer questions, a lot of stuff actually. I like it there, the lakes nice to go out and have lunch near and we get a lot of questions” 

“I’m glad you found a good job” 

“What about you?” 

Ray laughed and shook his head “I got a job in retail, you know the mall in town? I work at this decor place on the first floor, it’s stupid I know but it was a place that automatically hired me so I’m just staying there until I can find a place to really work at” 

Patrick hummed in understanding, Ray had taken them to a little sandwich place downtown and the busy but quiet atmosphere was helping his mood brighten a bit. In the car he’d told Ray everything that Officer Coles talked to him about, his friend had been shocked and disturbed about Dr. Weekes even more (“you should have told me something about that day! You should have gone to the fucking cops- _ I  _ should have gone with you and we both could have vouched for the abuse!”)

“Hang on, can I take this?” Ray stood up and headed outside, unfortunately for Patrick he could see the call was not a happy one. 

It might've been Mikey, Patrick winced recalling the look h’ed given Patrick that morning and wondered if something had happened to him again- _ oh.  _

Fuck he forgot about that connection he’d made in the police room. 

Something else came to mind now too and slowly he was losing his appetite for his sandwich, what had Brendon really seen? Maybe the drugs had made him crazy, maybe he thought he’d seen...Patrick didn’t want to admit it but maybe he’d thought he’d seen Pete and hallucinated everything. He sighed and rubbed at his face before jumping a little as someone took Ray’s seat,  his stomach dropped seeing the artificial smiling face of Dr. Weekes. 

“Mind if I sit here?” 

Patrick thought about screaming or making a scene, Ray was right after all, fuck the institution at this point. 

Instead though he cleared his throat “you’re already sitting” 

“Observant” the smile looked painful now, Patrick wondered if he’d just googled ‘smile’ and was attempting to copy it “they didn’t keep you at the police station long then?” 

“Excuse me” Patrick felt cold,  _ fuck  _ hurry up with your call Ray “I don’t believe that’s any of your business-”

“ _ Oh  _ you  _ are  _ my business” Dr. Weekes leered followed by a mechanical laugh “I might lose my job because of some little misunderstanding from years ago. You specifically Patrick Stump, are going to ruin a career I have worked hard to keep” 

“You already ruined it a long time ago” Patrick tried to keep his voice steady, Dr. Weekes’ face darkened “is the reason you’re so insistent on keeping Pete around because of Ryan?” 

If they weren't in a public setting Patrick was certain Dr. Weekes would have throttled him, his laugh was too forced and loud almost borderline manic “you’re really good at pushing buttons, has anyone ever told you that Patrick?” 

He winced, it was so weird hearing his first name “does pinning me to a door have something to do with pressing buttons?” 

Now a few patrons were looking at hem, Dr. Weekes stood up and grabbed Patrick’s arm pulling him with him out the door “we’re going to go to the nice little park nearby and we’re going to be adults about this, okay?” 


	7. Chapter 7

“This is kidnapping” Patrick looked around and panicked seeing Ray was over by his car, had the phone died? 

“Its not, I’m not taking you far away. As soon as we’re done with our little talk you can go back to Toro and we can all go back to our happy little worlds” his grip on Patrick’s wrist tightened and it felt as if his bones were being ground together.

To add more cherries to this unfortunate sundae there was practically no one at the park Dr. Weekes dragged them to and to make it worse when he forced Patrick to sit down he had draped his arm across the back of the bench making it clear Patrick had better not make a run for it. 

“Now then, where were we? Ah yes, you pressing buttons. You know I don’t think I’ve met a nurse I can’t stand more than you, your stupid little ideas about having patients re-integrate into society and treating them like people” Patrick felt his skin crawl as Dr. Weekes had reached up and started playing with Patrick’s hair, pulling at a few strands and speaking with a oily tone “you don’t seem to understand though, just what an institution is. They're’ _insane,_ Patrick, they’re dregs and mistakes, oh sure we have to make sure they’re not living in discomfort but there is no _hope_ for them” 

Patrick grit his teeth and forced down the bile in his throat “they’re human, insane or not, their mental illnesses are not them. You treat it like it’s some kind of a hierarchy-that’s it though sin’t it? You get your kicks from it, bossing us all around in some fucked up kingdom-” 

The hand around his throat froze Patrick’s blood stream, he wasn’t squeezing but rather resting the hand and long fingers around his neck with clear warning that he’d start squeezing soon. 

“I am a Doctor, my job is keep the institution in order. The patients are supposed to _listen_ to me, Patrick Stump, it’s my job to make sure they stay alive for however long it is and to keep them from conspiring against me” He gave Patrick that same plastic smile, he’d moved his hand back to petting Patrick’s hair “the thing is though, is that Peter has been causing me trouble for three fucking years, none of that happened though until...can you guess? Can you give me an answer?” 

_God_ the way he said that made Patrick feel like he needed a shower “You think that after I showed up at the fucking institution Pete started unraveling this fucked control fantasy you made?” 

“It wasn’t a _fantasy_ , I was in charge, I’m supposed to be in charge and the patients are supposed to be compliant” Dr. Weekes spoke through gritted teeth and he’d started gripping Patrick’s hair painfully but the man refused to cry out in pain “and your little friend has been trying to ruin that for me. I’m not being controlled by anyone, got it? As for your little question about Ryan that’s none of your fucking business” 

He loosened his hold and Patrick felt a few tears slip “really, then why is it your business that I was at the police station? It’s interesting because the way the officer spoke it sounded like you were obsessed with Ryan” 

“Obsession is a disgusting word. I wasn't obsessed with Ryan, he found someone to speak to with me and his parents found decided to look at it in a negative light” a friend in his counselor, as innocent as that might be Patrick had a feeling it might not have been “his parents refused to listen to him, he was terrified because he’d told me some boy he’d never seen said ‘it was time for him to return to the circus’ and made a vague threat about killing him. Did his parents care? No, they were more obsessed with their image of a sane happy family. Ryan was a brilliant boy, he should have had a long life to live but instead that disgusting shit rag in the back room killed him” 

Now the mask completely dropped and this was the Dr. Weekes that Patrick had a feeling was real; the man’s teeth were grit and his voice was dripping with hatred and eyes wild, the man tried to move but the second he did the hand was back around his throat gripping it and causing Patrick to gag in pain. 

“You’ve been the cause of all of my troubles, you and that fucking bastard, I haven’t had to think of Ryan since his death but now because of you and that _thing_ I have to keep alive I’ve been seeing the kid in my fucking nightmares a rotting corpse begging for help and blaming it all on me” Dr. Weekes was inches from Patrick’s face now and the man wouldn’t put it past him to just kill him in the park and leave the body “that psycho is going to rot away in that room and you’re going to be his next victim, how’s it feel knowing you’re taking care of your own death?”

Patrick couldn’t speak then, his brain was telling him to smash his head into the insane man’s face and run for it or to start screaming, anything to get away but nothing was working in his brain; Dr. Weekes smiled again, crooked and forced, leaning back and standing up. 

“Have a nice day, Patrick Stump, hopefully the police won’t accuse you of Brendon’s murder, that would be _such_ a stain on your career” 

*

You know that sick feeling you get in your gut when something was wrong and you blatantly lie to a friend? That oily eel feeling while you just smile and make an excuse for why you were gone? Yeah, that’s how Patrick felt as Ray drove him back to his apartment pretending that he hadn’t just been threatened by their old boss; it felt worse when Patrick promised Ray he was feeling better and that he should go be with Mikey to make sure he wasn’t going crazy from stress, now once again alone in his apartment though Patrick was regretting it. He set the sandwich down in the kitchen and promptly planted himself face first into his bed, screaming for a few seconds before going boneless with misery.

His ex-boyfriend was dead, he lied to someone he considered a friend, a fucking kid’s dead body had been exhumed and no one knew where it was, Pete was _fucking insane-_ Patrick propped himself on his elbows and stared blankly at the headboard, a kid’s body had been stolen…so help him, Patrick thought as he pulled his phone from his pocket, so help him he was going to go to the holding cell where Pete was and commit a murder. Nothing came up though when he searched for Andy and Patrick allowed himself to feel relieved, however when he typed up the circus murders he dropped his phone and plopped his face back into the bed; all the bodies of the missing fucking people have been exhumed and no one knew how, Patrick knew they couldn't blame it on Pete either because he was in the holding cell and had been at the asylum when these bodies had been moved

There was a sound in the hall that made Patrick jump and scramble around, he grabbed a pillow as if it would do anything against whatever invader was there. A few seconds ticked by before Patrick stood and walked on wobbly legs to the hall, when he peeked out he saw the bathroom light was on and felt his stomach twist at the thought that once again someone had broken in and was in his bathroom. He inched his way over with the pillow raised over his head, he kicked the door open but the bathroom was completely empty; Patrick scowled and dropped the pillow as he walked in, for fuck’s sake he was going to need a therapist himself now. He splashed his face a few times and grabbed the rag from the ring, when he dried his face off though the face he was looking at in the mirror was not pale and there were no blue eyes. 

Instead the face looking back at Patrick was a wispy dark shape, it was like someone took Patrick’s outline and put it in the mirror-as if someone had taken his  _ shadow  _ and it was now looking back at him. With this sickening realization the face in the mirror cracked a disturbingly wide grin, the shape a jagged jack-o-lantern smile and the white eyes looked like candle smoke. 

“ _ You want to blame everything on him?”  _ that voice, that fucking voice-Patrick wanted to run but found himself rooted to the spot. 

In the back Patrick saw the hall disappear along with the door, unable to move he watched in horror as clawed hands reached towards him wrapping around his throat; it was only then Patrick could move but all he could really do was start thrashing around as other hands reached from the dark to grab him, his entire bathroom had disappeared now with only the hands holding him to the ground and the shadow figure grinning like the devil himself. 

“ _ Finally found you again, you’re not running from us this time”  _

Us? Who the fuck was Us? Patrick opened his mouth only for two hands to appear over it clamping down, the shadow laughed and started walking away-no, he was walking towards something...Patrick blinked a few times before he saw things slowly appearing in the dark; the floor was stone, a table in front of him and two on different sides of the room, from what he could see the table in front of him had what looked like mad scientist equipment almost and the shadow man was doing something he couldn’t see. Speaking of the shadow man, he was starting to change a little too, now there was the sign of a more ornate outfit with a tail coat and a tall hat on his head. 

“ _ Really Benzie, you stupid little marlot, you ought to take your medicine”  _ the shadow turned around and grinned, in his hand glinting was a syringe filled with some kind of blue liquid “ _ hold him down for me, he gets antsy when it’s medicine time”  _

The hands covering Patrick’s mouth disappeared and he started thrashing around again “No! Get the fuck away from me-this is all a dream! I want to wake up, I don’t wanna be asleep anymore!” 

A hand grabbed his jaw and dug fingers in painfully, the white eyes held malice in them and the shadow man’s breath smelled like something rotted inside him “ _ be a good boy for the doctor Benzie and take your medicine”  _

There was a prick against the side of Patrick’s neck and his veins turned to ice, he felt his lungs beginning to contract painfully before his eyes rolled began to roll back; the Doctor grinned and snickered, starting to pinch along his neck and cheeks while humming out of tune and isn’t this just a sick twist of events? The Doctor had already threatened Benzedrine but he’d never thought he’d be caught here with something being injected into him; slowly his sight started to blur and black dots danced in front of his eyes, a panicked voice inside him said he should have listened to Sandman and stayed at their home but no he had to finish his work even if it meant staying around the increasingly unstable Doctor. 

_ “Can’t save you now, Benzedrine, now that the puppeteer’s out of the photo I’m the star of the show and you’re  _ not  _ going to keep me tied down anymore”  _

The Doctor cackled and stood to return to the table, this time he filled the syringe with the green ooze and Benzedrine felt his heart beginning to ache from the rapid beat, if that thing was injected into him he had no idea what the affects would be-

_ “Sandy please, I don’t know if this is a good idea” an assuring smile behind painted teeth “this-what if it really hurts you?”  _

The Doctor is kneeling down again, clawed fingers cutting into Benzedrine’s jaw 

“ _ Benzie it’ll be fine, worst that happens is I have to throw up for a long time. I trust you, I always do” those amber eyes stared into blue ones with so much adoration that he wasn’t worth  _

The shadow was surveying where to stab Benzedrine next, the blue liquid finally drained into his system and it seemed the sedative was working 

“ _ Sandy...just because I want to leave...if you want to stay-” Sandman had pressed a finger to Benzedrine’s lips with a stern look “o-okay...well give me your arm”  _

His wrist, his left one precisely, the Doctor surveyed the pale surface in search of a direct vein 

_ It had all gone wrong, so fast it had spiraled and Benzedrine found that Sandman was not only injecting the sludge into himself but drinking it, eating it, doing everything he could to somehow get the disgusting sludge into his body. There was no way the two of them could live in Normaland together, not without the normal folk putting Sandman in some kind of building where they’d poke and prod and no understand the addiction he was under.  _

There was a soft chuckle and Benzedrine winced as the Doctor dug his thumb into the skin, red blood welled up dripping down to the floor 

_ He had to leave alone, it tore at his heart that he was sneaking behind his husband’s back but for his own safety Benzedrine would have to leave Hollywoodland. The Puppeteer had made promises, said that he knew someone that played with the walls between their world and the other and that they could meet for a price  _

_ “Look at that, you’ve accepted your fate now huh?”  _ the Doctor hovered the needle over his arm frowning, this was...too easy suddenly 

_ The addiction had gotten worse, nightmares ruled the town and Sandman was nearly manic at every waking hour; Benzedrine had learned of Donnie and Horseshoes disappearance and knew somehow his husband was behind it all. So yes, he’d agreed to the terms the Puppeteer had, had given his home where Sandman slept one last look before heading into the manor of the one called Mr. Sinister.  _

But then there was no shadow man, disappearing with a hellish shriek, and there was no laboratory; there was Patrick on his back with a sour taste in his mouth as if he’d been throwing up, turning his head a little to his disgust Patrick found that he was indeed laying in a pile of vomit. He waited a little before his head stopped swimming to sit up, leaning against the tub and winced as his food slid down his neck into his shirt; what the fuck just happened? Okay so...he came home, he washed his face and-Patrick hissed as the side of his neck suddenly stung and he slapped his hand over it, not helping the pain but making him freeze. 

The mirror, Patrick stared at it in disgust and horror because the fucking mirror had vomit stains on it but...Patrick’s reflection hadn’t been his had it? No, that was fucking stupid, he was stressed from Dr. Weekes kidnapping him practically and from learning that apparently Pete had somehow stolen dead bodies; despite feeling like shit he at least managed to clean the floor and threw the vomit covered towels into the hamper, he’d have to do some serious laundry later but now he was so fucking exhausted and probably had a concussion he just needed to sleep. After changing into clean PJs Patrick curled up under the blankets and was instantly asleep the second his head hit the pillow.

* * *

_ The phone started ringing, almost like a siren directly in his hear, when Patrick answered it on the other end of the line was a frantic voice making no sense but the only clear thing was that Patrick needed to head to the manor. His shoes were forgotten as he ran to his car, it seemed like he teleported more than drove because soon he was parking at the bottom of the long path leading up to the abandoned building. Time moved differently for some reason now, as Patrick ran up the path around him different figures began to appear; people dressed in circus like attire, a man that looked like a puppet with a rope around his neck, black and white coats with skeletal faces, a man in red with little creatures scurrying all over him and another with green and tiny sheep floating around his head.  _

_ The doors are already open as Patrick reaches the steps, inside the manor the walls should be destroyed and the floor broken but instead there are people dressed in pristine clothes drinking wine chattering away to each other; no one spared Patrick a second glance, as he walked through the people a man was standing by the stairs heading up looking expectantly at Patrick; behind his obnoxious circle glasses it was clear he was scrunticizing him before grabbing his arm and pulling him with him.  _

_ Oxenfree, that’s what the man’s name was wasn’t it?  _

_ Oxenfree snorted and pulled Patrick faster up the steps almost causing him to fall, he was late apparently but that wasn’t right because he was here because….because Ray had called and said that Mikey was missing, there wasn’t supposed to be anyone at this building so...but Oxenfree tells him he’s an idiot and shoves him in front of him down the hall of doors and points at the end of the hall where 2 large doors sit. Hurry up, he’s waiting and you’ve kept this experiment held up for far too long, Patrick had no idea what he was talking about but he had no time to say anything as he was shoved again and Oxenfree seemed to disappear from behind him.  _

_ The doors around him opened and the same people from the path were peeking out and speaking, their words sounded like gibberish as they reached out for him only for them to disappear and reappear in the doors ahead. When he reached the doors they opened to reveal a large almost empty room and at the far end of the room leaning against the fire place was a man in a dark suit looking fairly annoyed. Something about the man looked familiar in a way that had Patrick’s stomach twisting but his feet walked towards him despite the fear, the man clicked his tongue and grabbed Patrick’s jaw in a painful grip; the gloves he wore felt slimy and Patrick tried jerking away only for the man to dig in his finger causing Patrick to cry out in pain. He’s tired of this prolonged experiment, Patrick had his little fun but now it was time to end it; that sparked panic in Patrick's gut and he shoved away from the man, stumbling and falling on his butt.  _

_ The man clicked his tongue and grabbed something from the mantle before turning back to Patrick, the needle of the syringe glinted and to Patrick’s horror he saw that green sludge inside. The man-Mr. Sinister, that’s who this was-grinned and started walking with calculated steps towards Patrick talking about how he shouldn’t have let this childish dream continue, how he should have kept a tighter chain on Benzedrine-but that’s now who Patrick was, or was it?- and how he should have kept the puppeteer by his side but everything was finally going to come to fruition whether the other man was alive or not. It was when Mr. Sinister kicked Patrick’s ankle the man came back to reality, he quickly rolled away as Mr. Sinister lunged down at him and missed stabbing the floor instead.  _

_ The taller man snarled and made a grab for Patrick only to have his face kicked at, blood seemed to spout from his nose as he recoiled in pain giving Patrick time to stand and grab the syringe from him; he backed away towards one of the windows as Mr. Sinister regained his composure and stood up, looking at Patrick like a monster from a nightmare and a grin to math. He taunted him then, saying he wouldn’t do anything, that he was the one who started this nightmare because he couldn't handle his world anymore and that it was his own fault that so many had to die. Patrick shook his head feeling fear, demanding to know where Ray or Mikey were but Mr. Sinister only laughed before lunging and Patrick; instead of running this time Patrick blindly stabbed the needle at him, it hit directly into Mr. Sinister’s neck and without thinking twice Patrick pushed the plunger down injecting the man with the green sludge.  _

_ Mr. Sinister screamed then, clawing at Patrick’s face and shoving away as he ripped the syringe out of his neck but it was too late, all the sludge was already inside him now; Patrick watched in silent horror as the man began clawing at his neck where blood was slowly turning into something like black rot and from his eyes green tears began to run down his face, for one last time Mr. Sinister looked at Patrick before lunging and this time Patrick did jump out of the way.  _

_ There was the sound of glass shattering  _

_ The sound of someone screaming getting distant _

_ And then nothing.  _


	8. Chapter 8

“ _...discovered his body right outside the manor where the murders had been committed. Luckily authorities found the kidnapped patient was safe albeit in shock, he was thankfully returned back to the institution and now the city can rest in peace knowing that Dallon Weekes is no longer a threat-” _

“Jesus Christ, turn that fucking thing off Gerard” Frank looked distastefully down at his coffee, Gerard mumbled an apology and switched to some other channel “I’m glad that sick fuck’s dead…”

“We all are” Mikey commented not looking up from the patient file he’d been given that morning “I’m just glad Patrick’s okay” 

“Like the dude already huh?” Gerard joked but really Patrick was everyone’s favorite patient more or less “Ray’s still at the police station giving his testimony, do you need any help with Patrick today?” 

“No I’ll be fine, thanks though” Mikey finished off his coffee and tossed it in the garbage “when Ray comes in tell him I already took care of Pete” 

Both nurses nodded to the younger Way as he exited the breakroom, Mikey stopped by the pharmacy area before heading out with his little tray of breakfast and pills; around him he heard everyone talking still about the incident and couldn’t help feeling his stomach twist at it, God, Ray was going to be blaming himself forever now probably but how was he supposed to know Dallon had come back to town? He had no way of knowing at all,  _ no one  _ had anyway of knowing, especially how he knew where Patrick was. A few nurses waved to him and he waved back, finally reaching the last door of the hall and started to reach for his keys but paused; the handle was twisted slightly...damn it all he knew exactly where Patrick was. 

So did a few other nurses apparently, some of them shot him knowing smirks while a few snickered, Mikey just rolled his and eventually reached the doors leading to the garden area. Sure enough when he walked around towards a back area where a bench was he found Patrick nestled into the side of Pete, the other patient that gave everyone some trouble. 

“Pete did you sneak Patrick out” Mikey asked as he rolled the tray over, the dark haired man gave him a sheepish grin looking twisted with the scars around his face “Pete you know that Patrick had a horrible thing happen to him last night. He needs his rest” 

Pete just nodded slowly, face darkening recalling that Dallon had broken into the building and kidnapped Patrick. Gently he nudged the other boy who slowly blinked his eyes open and stared blankly at Mikey, the nurse gave a small smile and started taking Patrick’s pills from their little baggies. 

“Hey Patrick, medicine time okay? I brought you breakfast too” 

Patrick sat up and looked up at Pete before his face slowly twisted into a frown, Mikey felt his heart ache at that; the doctor’s hadn’t seen anything Dallon might have done to Patrick, apparently he’d just kept him in the old manor for days and had once given him a sedative but that was it, otherwise Patrick was...Patrick, the poor kid that was traumatized thanks to Dallon. It didn’t take much coaxing to get Patrick to take his pills, he happily drank his apple juice before leaning towards Pete clearly trying to kiss him.

“Ah!” both men jumped and glared at Mikey “come on guys, you know the rules. We can’t let you kiss, you’re not even supposed to be snuggling” 

Patrick pouted and held up 1 finger, Mikey of course gave in easy and pretended to look away to let them kiss. 

“You have to see the doctor again later today, alright Patrick? Ray will come by and take you. Does that work?” Patrick seemed to be considering the universe before slowly nodding “okay, no more kissing you two alright? I don’t want you to get in trouble either of you” 

With that he left the two snuggling in their little secret garden corner, when Mikey was cleaning off the tray the newest nurse at the building walked in an awkwardly asked for pain medication. 

“Is someone hurt?” Mikey frowned as he grabbed the Tylenol

“Uh-his um...I think his name is Frank?” the nurse shifted around awkwardly 

“Ah, yeah he’s got a killer headache. Last night was exciting” Mikey remarked dryly as he handed the nurse the pills but he didn’t leave yet “you okay?” 

“Um...what’s the uh, the deal with the guy? Who broke in, and why did he kidnap Patrick? I thought Patrick was the quietest patient we have” 

Mikey frowned, did the new guy not know anything? “Hang on, for some reason we keep the newspaper around-here it is, this will tell you everything. How about I take Frank the pills? Don’t stay in too long” 

The nurse looked after Mikey frowning but headed to the breakroom to properly read the newspaper he was given;

##  _ HIGH SCHOOL COUNSELOR CONVICTED OF MURDER OF 7 STUDENTS  _

_ Dallon Weekes was convicted this Monday of the murder of 6 and the suicide of the student killer. Authorities were called to a bar where the counselor was reportedly boasting about encouraging one of his patients to commit murders, when detained Weekes admitted to being the instigator of the string of murders happening within the past 2 years.  _

_ Brendon Urie was an unstable young man as many reported, Dallon Weekes admitted to taking advantage of this and encouraging him to act on his violent desires; Urie killed Ryan Seaman, Ryan Ross, Spencer Smith, and Jon Walker in his Freshman year and the following year he murdered Joseph Trohman and Andrew Hurley before being found hanging in the park by their school with a letter written to his next targeted victim Patrick Stump.  _

_ “Brendon was obsessed with Patrick, he talked on and on about how he just wanted to be with him and how all of Patrick’s friends were getting in the way. Patrick had a boyfriend, think his name’s Pete? He was a college student, Brendon hated his guts and had on more than one occasion gotten into fights with the guy” Weekes reported to officers.  _

_ “All I did was help Brendon realize that his desires were completely possible, it was a fifty-fifty chance he’d start murdering. I have no responsibility for his murders, I was just someone that he confided in”  _

_ Despite authorities telling Weekes he was being convicted for the murders and Brendo’s suicide the man was hardly concerned and continued stating he was innocent of all of Brendon’s actions.  _

_ There are two survivors in this case that will have to be sent to an institution for insanity, Patrick Stump and Pete Wentz.  _

_ Patrick was kidnapped along with Pete, Brendon had drugged Pete repeatedly and had even sliced into his face leaving the man’s mouth scarred. Patrick had his throat slit but survived only losing his voice, when checked doctors found nothing had happened to him and speculated Brendon was waiting for Patrick to give up maybe and abandon Pete; when this never happened Pete somehow escaped and ran to find police, when they returned to the apartment they found Patrick knocked out and Brendon missing. He turned up days later hanging from a tree at the park by their school with a suicide note;  _

Patrick, I’m sorry, I really wanted us to work together but you were stupid and blind to that. If I can’t have your voice no one can, and if Pete was a pretty face now he’s ugly. I’ll love you forever 

_ Dallon Weekes was quite angry when authorities informed him that Patrick and Pete were not dead, he was reported saying that everyone was supposed to have died leading police to suspecting that he had plotted to kill this group of friends though currently they have no solid connections. Off record police chief Coles says she suspects that Ryan Seaman was not meant to die at all.  _

_“We have several reports saying that he (weekes) and Ryan were too close for most comfort from some, even the parents wanted him to have a different counselor. There’s the chance that when Brendon killed Ryan, Weekes lost it a little and decided to encourage Brendon to kill other people in hopes that the boy would end up killing_ himself. _This is just a theory though alright? We don’t know if it’s solid or not”_

_Whatever the case, Dallon Weekes is seeing the rest of his life behind Bars. As for those killed in this case we can only hope that they found peace, as for Brendon's family our hearts go out to them and we can only hope that in eternal rest Brendon realized the error of his ways and is now at peace._


End file.
